(Tom Waits)
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Well you gassed her up
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Behind the wheel
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With your arm around your sweet one
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In your Oldsmobile
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Barrelin' down the boulevard
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You're looking for the heart of Saturday night
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And you got paid on Friday
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And your pockets are jingling
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And you see the lights
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You get all tinglin' cause you're cruising with a six
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You're looking for the heart of Saturday night
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Then you comb your hair
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Shave your face
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Trying to wipe out every trace
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All the other days
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In the week you know that this'll be the Saturday
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You're reachin' your peak
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Stopping on the red
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You're going on the green
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Tonight'll be like nothing
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You've ever seen
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You're barreling down the boulevard
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Looking for the heart of Saturday night
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Tell me is the crack of the poolballs, neon buzzin
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Telephone's ringing; it's your second cousin
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Is it the barmaid that's smiling from the corner of her eye
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Magic of the melancholy tear in your eye
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Makes it kind of quiver down in the core
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You're dreaming of them Saturdays that came before
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Now you're stumbling
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You're stumbling onto the heart of Saturday night
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Now you're stumbling
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(Looking For) The Heart of Saturday Night
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| Madeleine Peyroux |