| Nibblin' on sponge cake
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| Watchin' the sun bake
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| All of the tourists all covered in oil
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| Strummin' my six string
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| On my front porch swing
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| Smellin' those shrimp, they’re beginning to boil
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| I’m wastin' away again in Margaritaville
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| Lookin' for my lost shaker of salt
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| Well, some people claim that there’s a woman to blame
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| But I know it’s my own damn fault
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| I don’t know the reason
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| I stay here all season
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| With nothing to show but a brand new tattoo
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| But she’s a real beauty
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| Mmm, a Mexican cutie
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| But how it got here, I haven’t a clue
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| Whoo, here we go
|
| Wastin' away again in Margaritaville
|
| Searchin' for my lost shaker of salt
|
| Well, some people claim that there’s a woman to blame
|
| But I know, hey, it’s my own damn fault
|
| Here we go
|
| Hey bartender, over here
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| Uh huh
|
| Well I, I blew out my flip flop
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| Stepped hard on a pop top
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| Cut my heel, had to cruise on back home
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| But there’s booze in the blender, whoo
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| And real soon it will render
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| That frozen concoction that helps me hang on
|
| Wastin' away again in Waboritaville
|
| Lookin' for my lost shaker of salt
|
| Some people claim that there’s a woman to blame
|
| But I know it’s my own damn fault
|
| Yes, I heard people say that there’s a woman to blame
|
| But I know it’s my own damn fault
|
| It’s all my fault
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| Yeah
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| Aye-aye-aye-aye-aye-aye-aye-aye-aye-aye-aye-aye-aye-aye-aye
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| Here we go, baby, whoo
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| Come on home, baby, come on home, whoo |