| In the back of a record rack
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| There’s a old double pack
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| Twelve inches and black
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| With an old crumpled cover
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| But every track is stacked
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| And it takes me back
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| To the one who caused this melancholy mood
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| And every single groove
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| Cuts me to the bone
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| Yeah, she rocks me to the bone
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| I took her back to my bachelor flat
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| While the stereo played for two
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| She unwrapped her gift
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| And played me a riff
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| And said, «this old record was just made for you»
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| Then we danced to songs of passion and
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| The singer’s velvet tones
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| On the gramaphone
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| While the record played
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| She rocks me to the bone
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| Knocks me to the bone
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| Those those rock n' roll romantic songs
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| Played all summer long
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| And she rocks me to the bone
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| Knocks me to the bone
|
| Yeah, she rocks me to the bone
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| Yeah, she rocks me to the bone
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| In dreams she’s smiling in slow motion
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| Devouring all of my emotion
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| Angels singing rock 'n' roll
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| While demons take away my soul
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| Voices sound, her image fades
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| Every time that record plays
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| She rocks me to the bone
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| Knocks me to the bone
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| In my back room there’s an old 45
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| That we played all summer long
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| Shakin the beams so loud it covered up the screams
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| When lover’s harmony went oh so wrong
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| And in every word emotion is torn
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| And blood flows down the drain
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| Like she opened up a vein
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| And cut me to the bone
|
| Yeah, she rocks me to the bone
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| And now I’m just a prisoner
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| In that stereo Hi-Fi jail
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| The needle pierced just like a nail
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| As she rocks me to the bone
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| Knocks me to the bone
|
| Do do do do do do do
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| She rocks me to the bone
|
| Yeah, she rocks me to the bone
|
| Yeah, she rocks me to the bone |