| One, two…
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| Two, three, four
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| I was riding around with my worst friend
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| It was the seventh of September
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| The day that I surrendered
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| Now fifteen more till my birthday
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| And he was talking 'bout a girl that he’d just met
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| «What was her name? |
| I can’t remember
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| Oh, but man, she was a mover
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| You shoulda seen the way she danced»
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| Oh, baby, please don’t leave me here
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| With these awful people, I, I fear
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| May help me become a man I will regret
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| And they say when you finally lose your love
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| It’s gone but you never forget
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| Well, my cup, it runneth over
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| With dyin' dreams and losing bets
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| And if it remains an island and you just don’t look back
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| All the stories they say we’ll tell
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| Well, I tell too many stories
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| So I guess it’s just as well
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| Oh, keep that bad news to yourself
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| Yeah, save it for somebody else
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| Yeah, baby, I do believe I’ll never see your face again
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| Oh, baby, I got somethin' to tell you
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| These awful people won’t know me as well
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| As you do, I’ll save my good side for you
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| And on the last night of summer, I got you alone
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| And we talked until dawn and then I walked you home
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| And I said, «baby, there’s someone out there for you
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| And maybe he saved his best side for you» |