| Drove around 'til five o’clock, it was drivers day
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| I drove the drivers way
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| Now I must speed up get up wipe up everything I’ve got
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| Wanna hit the pretty ice in my big city, with my big clich’s
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| And if I get out, give up, get along with myself
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| I’ve gotta get it on the dancefloor, baby where
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| In the Post United States of America
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| I’ve got my brotherhood to help me, take 'em there
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| In the Post United States of America
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| Police asked me where to go in a nowhereland
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| I’m in a state of sand
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| And if I pray well, make hell, gee swell, I’ll be OK
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| Brothers on my right and left they don’t give a shit 'bout my bottomless pit
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| And I know, I will turn 'em, all you mothers in’n’out
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| I wanna get it on the dancefloor'
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| Love me, fool me, drink my wine in the
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| In the Post United States of America
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| I wanna go with those who live and dies
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| In the Post United States of America |