| Saturday evening…
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| Saturday evening
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| A quarter to five
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| Oh I would see him arrive at the door
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| Pushed you aside as he staggered inside
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| Spitting alcohol over the floor
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| A storm is a-brew
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| And it’s sure to fall soon
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| As I look at you from the shore
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| So you’d better hold on
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| Cos it’s Saturday night
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| And your friends are all out
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| And you feel like shit
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| Cos they never call you
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| No they never call you
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| No they never call, never call, never bloody ever …
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| «Call me a name and I’ll hit you again
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| You’re a slut, you’re a bitch, you’re a whore
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| Talk to your daddy in that tone of voice»
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| There’s a belt hanging over the door
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| So you run to your room and you hide in your room
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| Thinking how you can settle the score
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| But it’s Saturday night and a quarter to six
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| And your friends are all out
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| But you live in the sticks
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| Still they never call you
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| No they never call you
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| No they never call, never call, never bloody ever call
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| Blue flashing light last Saturday night
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| Brought the neighbours all out on the street
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| Watched as the firemen carried you out
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| Then we stared at each other’s feet
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| Now everyone sees and yet nobody says
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| Are we all just afraid of the heat?
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| But it’s Saturday night and I’m lying alone
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| In the bed that I made, disconnected the phone
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| Still they never called you
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| No they never called you
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| No they never call, never call, never bloody ever call |