| Some people sit in the jacuzzi
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| Every night and every day
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| Cause they think that boiling water
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| Will take all their blues away
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| To be successful is so stressful
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| So the hottentots unwind
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| And party, party, party
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| While they’re boiling their behinds
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| But not me
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| I like my lobsters in the sea
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| I get my power from the shower
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| Cause I’m a hot tub refugee
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| Now they cannot see the danger
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| When the bubbles start to rise
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| So they sit and soak for hours
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| Til they’re hot tub hypnotized
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| And they say it’s so romantic
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| And the only way to score
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| Is to bathe with thirty people
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| That you never met before
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| But not me
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| That’s just one place I’ll never be
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| I’m just a hermit with a permit
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| To be a hot tub refugee
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| Soak it now. |
| What’s your sign?
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| I’ve tried the tubs in Aspen
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| Where the bunnies go to ski
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| And the tubs in California
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| Full of wet celebrities
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| But I swear a hot tub party
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| Makes my spirit start to droop
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| As I watch sweet young tomatoes
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| Try to turn themselves to soup
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| But not me
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| My onions mean too much to me
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| And my soul is saturated
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| I’m just a hot tub refugee |