All that buzzin' makes me dizzy.
All the dates you had with swingers.
Bye-bye.
Bye, baby.
And walk right through that doorway.
So long.
I'm leaving.
On the street going your way.
You know you've buttered your bread.
At the back of my head.
With an R.S.V.P.
I'm moving.
or Norway.
Now that I heard all that jazzing whereas I have had it, I've head it.
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