| Hey Mr. Dancin
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| My drink is on a short leash
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| My mouth is a cold sore display case
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| Here’s a tip, you could take a lot of abuse
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| If you exchange your skin for leather
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| All over town they’ve got these like messenger girls
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| What ride around on inner tubes
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| Their asses are all scraped up
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| Their eyes cold, kick me off the bus y’all
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| One honey donut and your lips are stuck to the seat
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| You close the door on
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| My machine girl, woah
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| You laugh a lot and run around
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| I’m out of fun and I’m stuck here
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| Down
|
| My machine girl, woah
|
| You laugh a lot and run around
|
| I’m out of fun and I’m stuck here
|
| Down
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| Another tempting tail in the back
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| The ghost of my mom is in the telephone booth
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| Look at that blind evil Rapunzel
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| Taking care of the guy who beat her up
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| Ooh, I hope you call soon, nothing’s right
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| I cab it to the bathtub
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| Sugar and wine, a dozen sharks
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| And a bar of soap, of course
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| One honey donut and your lips are stuck to the seat
|
| You close the door on
|
| My machine girl, woah
|
| You laugh a lot and run around
|
| I’m out of fun and I’m stuck here
|
| Down
|
| My machine girl, woah
|
| You laugh a lot and run around
|
| I’m out of fun and I’m stuck here
|
| Down |