| It’s already Friday
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| And soon it’ll be Friday night
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| And if you’ve got something planned
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| I suppose I’ll understand
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| But give me half an hour
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| And I’ll meet you in the gardens
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| I’ll probably be waiting under the rotunda if it’s raining
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| And somewhere near the see-saws if it’s not
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| We can wander round the football ground
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| As the sun sets on the grandstand
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| If it gets a little cold there
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| We can hold hands in the goal square
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| It’s getting dark and baby don’t the shops shine bright
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| I’ve been here for hours
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| I can’t see the florist for the flowers
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| And I can’t see the point in hanging around
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| I know we’ve done all this before
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| But once more won’t hurt
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| So let’s do it once more
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| Bereft of ideas
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| We live here but we’re sightseers
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| Somewhere over the railway line
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| There’s a light on in your loungeroom
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| Do you remember when I found you fast asleep?
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| You were so slow to your feet
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| I didn’t mean to yell
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| It’s just that I’m a little jealous
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| ‘Cause you can do the Rubik’s Cube and I can’t
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| I relied on blind faith and dumb luck
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| But eventually the stickers came unstuck
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| I know we’ve done all this before
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| But once more won’t hurt
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| So let’s do it once more
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| Bereft of ideas
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| We live here but we’re sightseers |