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There's a cool wind blowing in the sound of happy people |
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At a party given for the gay and debonair |
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There's an organ blowing in the breeze |
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For the dancers hid behind the trees |
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But I ain't never gonna see |
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What's shakin' on the hill |
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That I someday may be joining in is just wishful thinking |
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Cause admission's only guaranteed to favored few |
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There's a waiting list and plenty more |
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In a long line leading to the door |
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So I'll never know for sure |
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What's shakin' on the hill |
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I'm too blue to be played with |
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And I get heartaches |
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So they tell me no dice |
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It isn't allowed |
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In that carefree crowd |
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To be seen with tears in your eyes |
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So I make out I don't wanna know but I'm the pretender |
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Kicking cans 'round while that happy sound keeps cracking on |
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Though I long so strong to be inside |
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With the blues is where I do reside |
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So I'll forever be denied |
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What's shakin' on the hill |
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Though I long so strong to be inside |
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With the blues is where I do reside |
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So I'll forever be denied |
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What's shakin' on the hill |
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What's shakin' on the hill |
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What's shakin' on the hill |
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What's shakin', what's shakin', what's shakin', what's shakin', shakin' on the hill |
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What's shakin' on the hill |