Intro
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Verse 1:
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Three waitresses all wearing black diamond earrings
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Talking about zombies and Singapore slings
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No trouble in their faces, not one anxious voice
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None of the crazy you get from too much choice
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The thumb and the satchel or the rented Rolls-Royce
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And you think she knows something by the second refill
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You think she's enlightened and she totals your bill
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You say 'Show me the way to Barangrill'
Verse 2:
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Well some say it's in service, they say 'Humble Makes Pure'
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You're hoping it's near Folly, 'cause you're headed that way for sure
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And you just have to laugh 'cause it's all so crazy
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Ah, her mind's on her boyfriend and eggs over easy
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It's just a trick on you her mirrors and your will
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So you ask the truck driver on the way to the till
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But he's just a slave to Barangrill
Verse 3:
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The guy at the gas pumps He's got a lot of soul
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He sings Merry Christmas for you just like Nat King Cole
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And he makes up his own tune right on the spot
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About whitewalls and windshields and this job he's got
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And you want to get moving and you want to stay still
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But lost in the moment some longing gets filled
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And you even forget to ask: 'Hey, where's Barangrill?'