Doreen

Old 97S

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    When I first met Doreen
    She was barely seventeen.
    She was drinking whiskey sours in the bar.

    The way she tossed 'em back
    I would've had a heart attack.
    But as it is I let her drive my car.

    We galloped through the boroughs
    Like a pair of horny thoroughbreds,
    Until I said, ";Stop the car, Doreen.";

    Well you can roll your eyes and nod
    But I swear that I saw God,
    In the moonlight on a side street in the wreckage we call Queens.

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    Doreen, Doreen, Last night I had an awful dream.
    You were laying in the arms of a man I'd never seen.
    Come clean Doreen. Come clean Doreen.

    Well I'm pulling into Cleveland
    In a seven-seater tour van.
    There's eight of us, so I'm sleeping on the floor.

    The guy that plays the banjo
    Keeps on handing me the Old Crow,
    Which multiplies my sorrow, I can't take it anymore.

    Doreen, Doreen, last night I had an awful dream.
    You were laying in the arms of a man I'd never seen.
    Come clean Doreen. Come clean Doreen.

    Now I'm begging and I'm pleading,
    ";Well pull over guys, I'm bleeding.
    There's a Fina off the highway with a phone.";

    I'm calling you Doreen,
    But it rings and rings and rings.
    Where is it that you are, if you aren't in our bed at home.

    Doreen, Doreen, last night I had an awful dream.
    You were laying in the arms of a man I'd never seen.
    Come clean Doreen. Come clean Doreen.

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    Composición: Old 97's

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