| Well I’ve kicked around a lot since high school
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| I’ve worked a lot of nowhere gigs
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| From keyboard man in a rock’n’ska band
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| To haulin' boss crude in the big rigs
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| Now I’ve come back home to plan my next move
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| From the comfort of my Aunt Faye’s couch
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| When I see my little cousin Janine walk in
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| All I could say was ow-ow-ouch
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| Honey how you’ve grown
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| Like a rose
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| Well we used to play
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| When we were three
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| How about a kiss for your cousin Dupree
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| She turned my life into a living hell
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| In those little tops and tight capris
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| I pretended to be readin' the National Probe
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| As I was watchin' her wax her skis
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| On Saturday night she walked in with her date
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| And backs him up against the wall
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| I tumbled off the couch and heard myself sing
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| In a voice I never knew I had before
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| Honey how you’ve grown
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| Like a rose
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| Well we used to play
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| When we were three
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| How about a kiss for your cousin Dupree
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| I’ll teach you everything I know
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| If you teach me how to do that dance
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| Life is short and quid pro quo
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| And what’s so strange about a down-home family romance?
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| One night we’re playin' gin by a cracklin' fire
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| And I decided to make my play
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| I said, «babe with my boyish charm and good looks
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| How can you stand it for one more day?»
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| She said, «maybe its the skeevy look in your eyes
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| Or that your mind has turned to applesauce
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| The dreary architecture of your soul»
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| I said: «but what is it exactly turns you off»?
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| Honey how you’ve grown
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| Like a rose
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| Well we used to play
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| When we were three
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| How about a kiss for your cousin Dupree
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| Songwriters: Donald Fagen and Walter Becker |