Four on the floor, knock on the door
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It's finally a quarter to eight and
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Looks like everybody's ready and waiting
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One of the guys, little beady eyes
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I guess he's feeling bad 'cause he can't go
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I said "I'm sorry bud, you've gotta stay home"
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Friday's gone and I'm feeling fine
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Saturday's been on my mind
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Sun comes up on yellow lines
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Through the gears and the road unwinds
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Friday night's been left behind me, don't remind me
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'Cause I never really wanted to be there
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It didn't matter that I was living for free there
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Seventy-five, down Skelly Drive
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I got a funny feeling I'm falling and
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I think that mother nature is calling
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Bike's running fine, since 1969
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I'd run it wide open but I'd hit a rail
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I don't really want to spend another night in jail
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Four on the floor, half dozen more
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Everybody stayed until morning
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Someone in the back room is snoring
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Downstairs outside, still black as night
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Sun is coming up in an hour or two
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I'm wide awake and wondering what to do
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Four On The Floor
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| Philmore |