| I get up like a rocket in a hurricane
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| Then it’s off to work like a runaway train
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| Drivin' them nails, draggin' my tail
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| It don’t take much to follow my trail, follow my trail
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| Back and forth in a game of pickle
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| I ain’t nothing but the monkey in the middle
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| Walking that sideshow tight rope making ends meet
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| That organ grinder be in a bind without me In that circus they work us like a bunch of borrowed mules
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| But everytime that music plays I know what to do Every Friday night at the honky tonk
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| Me and my baby make that dive jump
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| When our buckles bump, I tell you what
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| That girl is packing some powerful stuff, powerful stuff
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| And when we get home she plays me like a fiddle
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| Makin' sweet music with the monkey in the middle
|
| Walking that sideshow tightrope, makin' ends meet
|
| That organ grinder be in a bind without me In that circus they work us like a bunch of borrowed mules
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| But everytime that music plays sugar I know what to do And then.
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| I get up like a rocket in a hurricane
|
| Then it’s off to work like a runaway train
|
| Drivin' them nails, draggin' my tail
|
| It don’t take much to follow my trail, follow my trail
|
| Back and forth in a game of pickle
|
| I ain’t nothing but the monkey in the middle |