I know of a groovy place
Where every girl of every race
Age and bra size and IQ
Goes when she feels broke or blue
It's a place more women stay
And the YWCA
Go there once you get the key
So every girls when they part me
Wear something scared that makes you well
While my husband's Pied-a-Terre
In two drinks you then she'll pare
That's my husband's Pied-a-Terre
Wondering how we cat and tell
Lost my husband's flying toe
Better get your derrie`re to my husband's Pied-a-Terre
Love is in the very air of my husband's Pied-a-Terre
I understand the waiter's pad
Fires spit while she look back
All the classes may go there, at my husband's Pied-a-Terre
There is not one single chair in my husband's Pied-a-Terre
When I grind this will be then
I am going to do in him
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