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I got a woman who's wild as Rome |
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She likes bein' naked and gazed upon |
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She crosses a bridge, she sets in on fire |
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She lands like a bird on a telephone wire |
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I'm gonna hollar and I'm gonna scream |
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I'm gonna get me some mescaline |
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And then I'm gonna rhyme that with gasoline |
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It's a drunken poet's dream |
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There's some money on the table and a pistol on the floor |
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A few paperback books by Louis L'Amour |
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Whisky bottles are scattered like last night's clothes |
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With cigarettes and papers and Oreos |
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My harmonica's got a busted reed |
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My lips are chapped and about to bleed |
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She says, that's nothing, when she was a kid |
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She danced with the dead at the pyramids |
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I'm gonna hollar and I'm gonna scream |
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I'm gonna get me some mescaline |
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Then I'm gonna rhyme that with gasoline |
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It's a drunken poet's dream |
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Now I'll never pay back my student loan |
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Smellin' like Coors and cheap cologne |
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She tells me not to worry about Judgment Day |
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She says dyin' to get into heaven's just not our way |
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I'm gonna hollar and I'm gonna scream |
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I'm gonna get me some mescaline |
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Then I'm gonna rhyme that with gasoline |
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It's a drunken poet's dream |
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I got a woman who's wild as Rome |
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She likes bein' naked and gazed upon |