| It’s wedding day in Funeralville
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| Your soup spoon’s on your right
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| The King and Queen will alternate
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| With the refrigerator light
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| They’ll be boxing on the TV show
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| The colored kid will sing
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| Hooray for you and midnight’s oil
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| Let’s burn the whole damn thing
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| Felicia is my dark horse girl
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| I’ll take her, if it rains
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| She throws up punch upon the host
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| And says many stupid things
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| But she ain’t so bad
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| When we’re all alone, she’s as different as can be
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| She’s a part a my heart, don’tcha pull us apart
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| She’s like one of the family
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| Oh no, trouble in the attic
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| Won’t somebody turn on a light?
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| Got so, so many troubles
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| Can’t even tell wrong from right
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| I’m gonna comb my hair
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| Darn my socks, tip my hat and say goodnight
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| It’s a wedding day in Funeralville
|
| What shall I wear tonight?
|
| It’s a wedding day in Funeralville
|
| What shall I wear tonight?
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| My car is stuck in Washington
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| And I cannot find out why
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| Come sit beside me on the swing
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| And watch the angels cry
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| It’s anybody’s ballgame
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| It’s everybody’s fight
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| And the street lamp said as he nodded his head
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| It’s lonesome out tonight
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| Oh no, there’s trouble in the attic
|
| Won’t somebody turn on a light?
|
| Got so, so many troubles
|
| Can’t even tell wrong from right
|
| I’m gonna comb my hair
|
| Darn my socks, tip my hat and say goodnight
|
| It’s a wedding day in Funeralville
|
| What shall I wear tonight?
|
| It’s a wedding day in Funeralville
|
| What shall I wear tonight? |