1. |
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The fiddles are squeakin'
The guitars are speakin'
The piano plays a jelly-roll
The man on the drum is far from dumb
And the bassman, he plays from his soul
The tables are shakin'
And your nerves are quakin'
But you keep on askin' for more
You keep a-havin' your fun
You lucky son of a gun
On a honky tonk hardwood floor
On a honky tonk hardwood floor
On a honky tonk hardwood floor
You keep a-havin' your fun
You lucky son of a gun
On a honky tonk hardwood floor
Well, there's a waitress handy
And she don't sell candy
And she don't sell soda pop
There's a fat bartender
Who's there to serve you
If you really want to blow your top
And if you got no money, there's a little honey
She's a girl that you adore
You keep a-havin' your fun
You lucky son of a gun
On a honky tonk hardwood floor
On a honky tonk hardwood floor
On a honky tonk hardwood floor
You keep a-havin' your fun
You lucky son of a gun
On a honky tonk hardwood floor
Your payday's Saturday
You're broke on Sunday
Come Monday, you're feelin' sore
You got big black eyes that you picked up
From a little guy the night before
So you swear off to drinkin'
But when you get to thinkin'
On the good times you had, oh Lord
So keep a-havin' your fun
You lucky son of a gun
On a honky tonk hardwood floor
On a honky tonk hardwood floor
On a honky tonk hardwood floor
You keep a-havin' your fun
You lucky son of a gun
On a honky tonk hardwood floor
On a honky tonk hardwood floor
On a honky tonk hardwood floor
You keep a-havin' your fun
You lucky son of a gun
On a honky tonk hardwood floor
Ow!
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2. |
Walk on By
02:25
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If I see you tomorrow on some street in town
Pardon me, if I don't say hello
I belong to another, it wouldn't look so good
To know someone I'm not supposed to know
Just walk on by, wait on the corner
I love you, but we're strangers when we meet
Just walk on by, wait on the corner
I love you, but we're strangers when we meet
In a dimly lit corner in a spot outside of town
Tonight we'll try to say goodbye again
But I know it's not over, I'll call tomorrow night
I can't let you go, so why pretend?
Just walk on by, wait on the corner
I love you, but we're strangers when we meet
Just walk on by, wait on the corner
I love you, but we're strangers when we meet
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Nick Lowe London, UK
Nick Lowe has made his mark as a producer (Elvis Costello-Graham Parker-Pretenders-The Damned), songwriter of at least three songs you know by heart, short-lived career as a pop star, and a lengthy term as a musicians’ musician. But in his current ‘second act’ as a silver-haired, tender-hearted but sharp-tongued singer-songwriter, he has no equal. ... more
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