| Where did we begin?
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| Back in the days we lived inside each other’s skin
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| We cuddled like we never needed anything
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| Think of what you’d have to pack
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| If you left and planned on never coming back
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| Just the thought of it can stop you in your tracks
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| And make you stay
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| Oh but where i’d like to be
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| Is on a dancefloor with some drinks inside of me
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| Someone whispering it’s quarter after 3
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| There’s no where I’d rather be
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| So we talk about this
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| In a tone that suggests anybody cares
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| So excited each time anybody dares
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| And who’s your next to call?
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| Who’s impossible?
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| And who’s too close to call?
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| Who’s just desperate for anything at all?
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| Anything at all, like love…
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| Oh but where i’d like to be
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| Is on a dancefloor with my friends all pissed at me
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| Someone singing and I realise it’s me
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| I realise it’s me
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| Play me good times, shame
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| Golden years, let the music play
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| Good times, shame
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| Golden years, let the music play
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| Oh it’s where i’d like to be
|
| Is on a dancefloor with some drinks inside of me
|
| Oh it’s where i’d like to be
|
| Is on a dancefloor with some drinks inside of me
|
| Oh it’s where I’d like to be
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| Oh it’s where I’d like to be
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| On a dancefloor
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| On a dancefloor
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| On a dancefloor |