Forty+five+dollars*

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I’ve got $45 in my $5 pants I’ve got a car that’s ready to roll My baby should be ready with her whimsical glance Just got to make that phone call then I’m heading out along the road Driving through the city to some music and light, it shines like a magical dream I hug my baby and she puts her hand upon my knee

She’s living with an actress who’s ¾ mad, who’s got a cat with only one ear She’s got a strange predilection for Icelandic jazz And she says she’ll be in Reykjavik sometime early next year Waiting for the band to start with stubbies of beer, the crowd’s getting ready to roar I hold my baby and it’s like we’ve never touched before

She’s got her hair in the air like an African Queen, she’s got a coat that’s seen better days She’s wearing a badge that is vaguely obscene, and I’m raving like a madman but she understands the things that I say The band comes on about ¼ past nine, they’re belting out bluegrass and swing Her hand’s upon my shoulder as the man begins to sing

Well I’ve said I’ve been in love before and I guess that I was, but now I’m jumping round and clicking my heels I’m singing and I’m dancing round the landscape because my baby looks me in the eye and says that’s just the way that she feels The band stops playing when the pub has to close, we drive back to my place to stay We kiss and we canoodle til the dawning of a brand new day

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