| Oh, lying on a beach in Ireland
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| Rain’s pouring down
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| Got a pint of Guinness in one hand
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| Got a beautiful Irish girl in the other
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| All of a sudden she turns, she says:
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| Don’t worry, 'bout a thing
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| Every little thing, is gonna be alright
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| Singin' Don’t worry, 'bout a thing
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| Every little thing, is gonna be alright
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| Rise up this morning, smile at the rising sun
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| Three little birds, at my doorstep
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| (Who's that bird?)
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| Singin' sweet song, melody pure and true
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| This is my message to you:
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| Singin' Don’t worry, 'bout a thing
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| Every little thing, is gonna be alright
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| Singin' Don’t worry, 'bout a thing
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| Every little thing, is gonna be alright
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| And now he’s gone, into the setting sun
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| We know his music, will always live on
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| Eternally, Bob will always sing
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| This is my message to you:
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| Singin' Don’t worry, 'bout a thing
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| Every little thing, is gonna be alright
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| Singin' Don’t worry, 'bout a thing
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| Every little thing, is gonna be alright
|
| Don’t worry, 'bout a thing
|
| Every little thing, is gonna be alright
|
| Don’t worry, 'bout a thing
|
| Every little thing, is gonna be alright
|
| Don’t worry, 'bout a thing
|
| Every little thing, is gonna be alright
|
| Don’t worry, 'bout a thing
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| Every little thing, is gonna be alright |