| We were a blow out of wicked proportions
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| An accidental company
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| If we said, «We were going to go out and get all tore up tonight»
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| Then we did, we got a little happening
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| Play your tonight’s the nights right
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| And don’t clear the place
|
| Sweep up a little on your way out
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| We might make it
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| With Dottie the bluegrass singer
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| Baring her local breasts
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| Singing, «You want an open concept?
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| I’ll give you open concepts»
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| You play your fuck off nows right
|
| And don’t clear the place
|
| Wreak some havoc on the way out
|
| You might make it
|
| «Drink up, folks, it’s getting on time to close»
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| They said, «We don’t even like you»
|
| «I'm with you,» I said
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| Perhaps you think the road is a means to an end
|
| Where it’s a living in the end
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| The living end, the living image of the end
|
| Play your tonight’s the nights right
|
| And don’t clear the place
|
| Sweep up a little on your way out
|
| You might make it
|
| If your tonight’s the nights right
|
| And you don’t clear the place
|
| Sweep up a little on your way out
|
| You might make it
|
| Tonight’s the night
|
| Tonight’s the night tonight
|
| Tonight, tonight, tonight
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| Tonight’s the night tonight
|
| Tonight’s the night tonight
|
| Tonight, tonight, tonight
|
| Tonight’s the night tonight
|
| Tonight’s the night tonight |