| Walking on air I’m walking on air
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| Left my stuff, hopped on the first bus to the middle of nowhere
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| Making sweet love I’m making sweet love
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| To a photograph of a woman in a coconut bra
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| She goes aaaahhhhh
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| Come on run to me, run to me
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| Aaaaaaahhhh
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| I got nowhere else to beeeee
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| Happy new year, so far out here
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| I can almost touch the sun
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| I know most people they call it hell
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| I call it home
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| So happy near year
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| Living large I’m living large
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| I got a ten dollar hotel room, cheap bottle of suds
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| Making sweet love, yeah, I’m making sweet love
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| To the memory of the woman from new york city
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| She goes aaaahhhh
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| Come on run to me, run to me
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| Aaaaahhhh
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| You’re like a drug to me
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| Happy new year, so far out here
|
| I can almost touch the sun
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| Now, most people they call it hell
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| I call it home
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| So happy new year
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| Sing along
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| Happy new year
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| The sun burned out a fiery crimson ray
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| Burn, burn, baby burn
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| When you ran out it really wrecked my head
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| So burn, burn, baby burn
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| So happy new year, so far out here
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| I can almost touch the sun
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| I know most people they call it hell, I call it home
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| So happy new year, sing along
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| Happy new year, ride along
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| Happy new year |