By day
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He's a grease monkey it's true
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A slave
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Fix your transmission like new
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Change oil
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Rotate your tires of course
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He toils
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Under the Flying Red Horse
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And at six he rolls
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Down his sleeves
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Turns his collar up
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When the boss man leaves
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Close up the shop
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Puts away his tools
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Gives the last car keys
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To the gas pump fools
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Then he's home at last
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No more goodwrench scene
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And he scrubs his hands
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Till they're surgeon clean
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Takes a long hot shower
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Some cologne and then
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The change is complete
|
He's himself again
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At night he's Doctor Sax
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He's Mister Tenor Virtuoso
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He plays to rhythm tracks on tape
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No one like Doctor Sax
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Not even Trane or Bird could blow so
|
The girls have heart attacks, they say
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(He'll put it all on wax one day)
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Some day
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He will live just in his mind
|
Some way
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Leave all his misery behind
|
His horn
|
He will blow breaking the curse
|
Reborn
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Under the Flying Red Horse
|
|
-----------------
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Doctor Sax
|
Michael Franks |