He's in the bar, he's in your hair,
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With his sports keyring jangling he's everywhere,
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He's in your view, he's in your face,
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Straight out of the seventies to straight out of place.
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His collars turned up high he's on top of the world,
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Sliding down the bar he's always falling, falling,
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With his one good eye he winks at what he thinks is girls,
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Opens toothless grin and then he's crawling, crawling.
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And I'm a moving, I'm a grooving,
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And I'm a smooching, and he's a discotheque wreck, yeah!
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He's in your sight, he's in your pocket,
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He's a superfly guy without a superfly rocket,
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Every night he's on your case,
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A terrible reality of disco race.
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His collars turned up high he's on top of the world,
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Sliding down the bar he's always falling, falling,
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With his one good eye he winks at what he thinks is girls,
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Opens toothless grin and then he's crawling, crawling.
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And I'm a moving, I'm a grooving,
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And I'm a smooching, and he's a discotheque wreck, yeah!
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I can mashed potato.
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I can do the twist.
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Tell me baby,
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Do you like it like this.
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When I'm a moving, I'm a grooving,
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And I'm a smooching, and he's a discotheque wreck, yeah!
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I'm a moving, I'm a grooving,
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And I'm a smooching, and he's a discotheque wreck. [x2]
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-----------------
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Discotheque Wreck
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Terrorvision |