| In spite of you, you like yourself
 | 
| An’that’s alright with me,
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| It gets so lonesome fillin’space
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| Erase them golden memories
 | 
| An’blow the candle out,
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| Let’s get on off away somewhere
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| An’see what we’re about.
 | 
| chorus: (play intro)
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| Lay down your weary tune again
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| and rest your head on me,
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| Your phone call says you’re sorry
 | 
| An’the grapevine says you’re free.
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| Your drugstore dady’s flesh an’blood
 | 
| An’out there on the runway now
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| The king’s all set to go.
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| They’ll cover up the window soon
 | 
| 'Cause he’ll be rollin’in,
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| He’s Elvis Presley, honey chile,
 | 
| An’I can’t cop his grin.
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| The missionary paid my way
 | 
| An’put me off to sleep,
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| I woke up early yesterday
 | 
| An’found a place to eat.
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| I got it down an’felt relieved
 | 
| An’Jane went off to work,
 | 
| It’s wooden soldier’s Christmas time
 | 
| An’Jane she is a clerk.
 | 
| In spite of you, you like yourself
 | 
| An’I admire you much.
 | 
| I’m out to get us back in sync,
 | 
| 'Cause we’ve been so out of touch.
 | 
| Just meet me next to Noah’s ark
 | 
| An’let’s get out of town,
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| There’s got to be someplace somewhere
 | 
| These rain clouds haven’t found. |