Some days you gotta dance Live it up when you get the chance 'Cause when the world doesn't make no sense And you're feeling just a little too tense Gotta loosen up those chains and dance It was about five 'til five on Friday We were all getting ready to

And when I'm hanging by a string, Every little thing Is understood Stronger than steel and wood. Seen me through the bad and good. Between Martin and me. He was born in the woods Torn from his home. Well, he was naked,

Some days you gotta dance Live it up when you get the chance 'Cause when the world doesn't make no sense And you're feeling just a little too tense Gotta loosen up those chains and dance It was about five 'til five on Friday We were all getting ready to

Say you'll never let me go Deep in my bones I can feel you Take me back to a time when we knew We could waste the night with an old film Smoke a little weed on the couch in the backroom Take it slow but it's not typical

And the clean coming will hurt And you can never get it spotless When there's dirt beneath the dirt I heard the truth was built to bend A mechanism to suspend the guilt Is what you are requiring still You've got to dance little liar Just like those fibbs

Strip it down, down, down Back to you and me like it used to be When it was an old back road with an old school beat Cowboy boots by your little bare feet Let it out, tell me right now Everything I need in them white cotton sheets Dirty dance me slow in

Born on the bayou Born on the bayou. Chasin' down a hoodoo there. Now when I was just a little boy standin' to my Daddy's knee My Poppa said son don't let the man get you do what he done to me 'Cause he'll get you 'cause he'll get you now now. I can

It's alright, it's alright You are my one and only You gave that joy to me When my whole life was lonely Do it again Don't let this love end You came in That's what my little heart was looking for Laughter in the rain

Hey, little rich girl where did you go wrong? You left for London, when you were nineteen I bought you a fur coat when you were fifteen You wore it to the disco, where everyone was in jeans But you were just a rich girl, and only having fun Your worn out

"Que sera, sera, Whatever will be, will be; The future's not ours to see. Que sera, sera, What will be, will be." Will I be rich?" When I was just a little boy, I asked my mother, "What will I be? Will I be pretty?