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We're sitting fruity alchopops with pink glasses with ice and watching the girls of summer |
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With there bare legs and trains and there white strap link through yesterdays top beneath today's cologne |
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Across there peeling shoulders on there way to the bar |
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Later i put my tape in the bath in attempt to shave, well almost cut and ending up slashing my cheek and nickin' my lip |
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And spraying on some poof juice and go to the park with my economy cider |
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I don't think i'll need a jacket |
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It'll be bright when the carry outs are finished |
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And we head to the pub to get everyone else |
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Leaving our empties kicked behind a bush |
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We'll get 'em in there and casually saunter into the bogs and swallow |
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And get taxi's down to a club |
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The micelet and magpie through the window on the way |
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In the hope they'll get a shag |
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But i'll wake up clamouring a girl i know fully clothed on someone's couch i've barely slept for two hours |
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All sweaty and thoughtful and needing a fix |
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And then you'll wake up |
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And the first thing we'll do is to make plans to get pissed |
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So we'll sit in a pub and watch the girls of summer. |