| In Paris, France you know it’s ooh-la-la
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| They got the bottle of wine, they got the old Marais
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| In Dublin town they’re gonna tip a few
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| Of that angry land’s thick black brew
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| Lone Star has no substitute
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| T for Texas, Toke, and Toot
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| It’s a shame and it’s a scandal
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| The way he burns the candle
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| The way he burns the candle at both ends
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| Only twenty four of them in one day
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| You can’t sleep the valuable hours away
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| Jailbait under twenty one
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| Illegal and unwholesome fun
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| Who needs love, who wants romance?
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| I wanna eat your underpants
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| And it’s a shame and it’s a scandal
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| The way he burns the candle
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| The way he burns the candle at both end
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| You know the boy is a rake, the boys is a roamer
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| The boys’s strung out and the boy’s hungover
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| There is no way the boy can disguise
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| The brown fingertips and the bloodshot eyes
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| Now the boys’s in a sorry state
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| It even hurts to urinate
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| Whoa, it’s a shame and it’s a scandal
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| The way he burns the candle
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| The way he burns the candle at both ends
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| At thirty five his wind is shot
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| He can’t climb stairs and he can’t get hot
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| At forty-five he’s all burned out
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| His teeth and his hair are falling out
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| At fifty-five he’s in his bed
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| He’s finished — one day he’s dead
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| He was shame, he was a scandal
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| The way he burned the candle
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| The way he burned the candle at both ends
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| At both ends… |