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My music tore at Sassie's heart |
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And Mercer loved my rhymes |
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My tunes climbed the Billboard chart |
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At least a dozen times |
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But life's capricious pendulum |
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Has tossed me to this pit |
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I sure could use ANOTHER HIT |
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A long parade of goddesses |
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Passed through my bedroom door |
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I unhooked gowns and bodices |
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Till it became a chore |
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I dined with Julie London once |
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Charmed her with my wit |
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Joe, I could use ANOTHER HIT |
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Their hands would flutter down my neck |
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The honey flowed, the honey flowed |
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A crisp new bill would pay the check |
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The money goes, the money goes |
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We rode in block-long limousines |
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The champagne flowed like wine |
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I made the trades and magazines |
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This fickle world was mine |
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My evening clothes were Saville Row |
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Each suit a perfect fit |
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Joe, I could use ANOTHER HIT |
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A narrow waist |
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An ample hip |
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The honey flowed, the honey flowed |
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I'd leave a twenty for a tip |
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The money goes, the money goes |
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I muddle through this blue-soaked haze |
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Bereft of all my toys |
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The music that they write these days |
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Is just a lot of noise |
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The world is not so sweet a place |
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When viewed from where I sit |
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Joe, I could use ANOTHER HIT. |
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words and music by David Cantor |
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(c) 1993 Flexible Man Music, Corp. |