| Those were the days of Elaine
|
| That was the phrase that she used to describe to her son
|
| Of the fun she had had
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| Long before he went away
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| Long before days of the dole and the draze and the lull
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| But the call never came
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| To say, oh oh oh
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| Loitering lavender park
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| Laying about in the day and the dark of a room
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| While the noon passes by
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| Always on verge of collapse
|
| Mother would quit and then suffer a lapse from the drink
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| You would think she was dead
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| What to say, oh oh oh
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| She say, oh oh oh oh
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| And the time that it takes, will it go so slow?
|
| She laid on the brakes and she dulled the glow
|
| Now, doesn’t it go so slow?
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| When you build it up to tear it down
|
| You’re tearing it down
|
| You tear it down
|
| Those were the days
|
| Those were the days of Elaine
|
| The days of Elaine
|
| The days of Elaine
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| A lover like Alain Delon
|
| She followed him blind from saloon to salon
|
| From the hills to the pills he would take
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| Father had died in the mines
|
| Brother had shown no remorse for his crimes
|
| When they strung him up he got all hung up on the scaffolding
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| But he say, oh oh oh
|
| He say, oh oh oh oh
|
| And the time that it takes, well, it goes so slow
|
| She laid on the brakes and she dulled the glow
|
| Now, doesn’t it go so slow?
|
| When you build it up just to tear it down
|
| You’re tearing it down
|
| You tear it down
|
| Those were the days
|
| Those were the days of Elaine
|
| The days of Elaine
|
| The days of Elaine |