Dance the dance
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In the belly of the lion
Work all week long
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We've got nothing to sing about
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Listen to the rhythm
Of the pawn shop shore
Got you falling off your hinges
Like that old screen porch
It's the interstate slipping in your pores again
You can ride the vein
From the corner store to Amsterdam
You can bleed the train
From the courthouse to the Vatican
But Friday she's a ghost
And gonna slip right through your hands again
So dance the dance
in the belly of the lion
We work all week long