| Monday morning I say I won’t touch a thing
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| Ever again
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| Thursday I feel my resolve has paid off
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| Just one more night off
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| So I call my friends, they all come over
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| And it begins, it won’t be over til the tambourine rings
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| With that regret that it brings
|
| I’m picking up something for the weekend
|
| I’m picking up something for the weekend
|
| I’m picking up something for the weekend
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| Let myself back up and down again
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| Don’t trust anything I say after midnight
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| Got a tendency to lie
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| Down with anyone who gets in my way
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| Don’t get in my way
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| But it’s mine all mine, don’t try and stop me
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| Know it line for line, the entire story
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| The order things go in
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| When that tambourine rings
|
| I’m picking up something for the weekend
|
| I’m picking up something for the weekend
|
| I’m picking up something for the weekend
|
| Let myself back up and down again
|
| But I call my friends, they all come over
|
| And it begins, it won’t be over til the tambourine rings
|
| With that regret that it brings
|
| I’m picking up something for the weekend
|
| I’m picking up something for the weekend
|
| I’m picking up something for the weekend
|
| Let myself back up and down again
|
| I’m picking up something for the weekend
|
| Let myself back up and down again |