| The other night, I was on Skid Row
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| By a liquor store sign’s garrish glow;
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| I saw a fellow I used to know a long, long time ago
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| He stood with the lost, with the living dead
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| With rumpled clothes and a reeling head
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| Reviewing the wasted life he’d lead, and as I passed he said
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| «Let me tell you a story that’s sad but true
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| About someone who just may remind you of you
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| Let me tell you a tale that may help you awake a woozy head —
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| Somebody buy me a drink
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| «It begins long ago on a happy day
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| With a fool who was loved, but threw it all away
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| Who exchanged a good home for a flophouse, a bar and a plank —
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| Somebody buy me a drink
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| (Bridge:)
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| «Well, to see me today, when I have hit the skids
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| Who would think I once had a fine wife and kids?
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| Yes, I was that fool, after treasure and pleasure
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| And love was just a game played with some other dame
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| «Now there’s only one thing I feel certain of:
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| The only true treasure in life is love
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| Without someone to love and love you, see how low you can sink?
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| Somebody buy me a drink
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| Somebody, somebody, buy me a drink.» |