| You must be crazy or half insane
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| Look at your eyeballs, street cocaine
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| You drink that white rum, you hit the roof
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| What do you expect, one-five-one proof
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| You drive your mustang down Sunset Strip
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| And in the back seat, a big black whip
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| Look at your lipstick, all 'round your face
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| Everything you do is in bad taste
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| Baby I think you’re cute
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| But there’s no substitute for love
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| Honey it’s a crying shame
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| This whole mad town thinks you’re insane
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| You take me dancing but I can’t dance
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| but when I try to, you start to laugh
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| You shake your hips child like a rattle snake
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| You make me jealous make no mistake
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| You went to Woodstock and all that trash
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| Your generation is fading fast
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| You wear them hot pants, they’re out of style
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| You like brown sugar, I think it’s vile
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| One of these nights child, it won’t be long
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| Somebody somewhere who’s big and strong
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| In a dark alley, a blood stained coat
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| He’ll stick his long thing right down your throat
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| Lord have mercy
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| Hey baby, I think you’re insane baby
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| You got no brain, you’re insane
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| Tell me baby, can you play harp
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| Can you play bass
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| Can you play guitar
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| Can you play drum
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| Then you’re insane |