| I was fifteen years old, a young innocent boy
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| On a playground at school, when I first met Joy
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| Her T-shirt was white, and her chest was quite large
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| When the storm clouds rolled in, it started commin' down hard
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| White shirts and rain, yeah they bring on a change
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| We knew she had a set, but when she got em both wet
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| You could see everything; |
| I just stood there in aw
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| She didn’t have on a bra; |
| a cold wind hit her back
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| And out popped her rack, white shirts and rain
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| I’ve heard em called hangers; |
| I’ve heard em called cans
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| I’ve heard em called cha-cha's n chi-chi's n boobies, n two really good friends
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| Some like to be pet on, pinched on and pulled
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| Some like to be kissed on, some you can’t touch at all
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| White shirts and rain, yeah they bring on a change
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| They’ve all got a set, but when they get em both wet
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| You can see everything, and it’s hard not to stare
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| When they’re sittin right, over there, could you run through my lawn
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| I got my sprinkler on, because today looks like no, rain |