Friday Night Saturday Morning
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Friday Night Saturday Morning - Nouvelle Vague

Lyrics by:Terry Hall

Composed by:Terry Hall

Out of bed at eight am

Out my head by half past ten

Out with mates and dates and friends

That's what I do at weekends

I can't talk and I can't walk

But I know where I'm going to go

I'm gonna watch my money go

At the Locarno

When my feet go through the door

I know what my right arm is for

Buy a drink and pull a chair

Up to the edge of the dance floor

Bouncers bouncing through the night

Trying to stop or start a fight

I sit and watch the flashing lights

Moving legs in footless tights

I go out on Friday night

And I come home on Saturday morning

I go out on Friday night

And I come home on Saturday morning

I love to venture into town

I love to get a few drinks down

The floor gets packed the bar gets full

I don't like life when things get dull

The hen party have saved the night

And freed themselves from drunken stags

Having fun and dancing

In a circle round leather bags

I go out on Friday night

And I come home on Saturday morning

I go out on Friday night

And I come home on Saturday morning

But two o'clock has come again

It's time to leave this paradise

But the chip shop isn't closed

'Cause their pies are really nice

I'll eat in the taxi queue

Standing in someone else's spew

Wish I had lipstick on my shirt

Instead of piss stains on my shoes

I go out on Friday night

And I come home on Saturday morning

I go out on Friday night

And I come home on Saturday morning

I go out on Friday night

And I come home on Saturday morning

I go out on Friday night

And I come home on Saturday morning

Friday Night Saturday Morning - Nouvelle Vague

Lyrics by:Terry Hall

Composed by:Terry Hall

Out of bed at eight am

Out my head by half past ten

Out with mates and dates and friends

That's what I do at weekends

I can't talk and I can't walk

But I know where I'm going to go

I'm gonna watch my money go

At the Locarno

When my feet go through the door

I know what my right arm is for

Buy a drink and pull a chair

Up to the edge of the dance floor

Bouncers bouncing through the night

Trying to stop or start a fight

I sit and watch the flashing lights

Moving legs in footless tights

I go out on Friday night

And I come home on Saturday morning

I go out on Friday night

And I come home on Saturday morning

I love to venture into town

I love to get a few drinks down

The floor gets packed the bar gets full

I don't like life when things get dull

The hen party have saved the night

And freed themselves from drunken stags

Having fun and dancing

In a circle round leather bags

I go out on Friday night

And I come home on Saturday morning

I go out on Friday night

And I come home on Saturday morning

But two o'clock has come again

It's time to leave this paradise

But the chip shop isn't closed

'Cause their pies are really nice

I'll eat in the taxi queue

Standing in someone else's spew

Wish I had lipstick on my shirt

Instead of piss stains on my shoes

I go out on Friday night

And I come home on Saturday morning

I go out on Friday night

And I come home on Saturday morning

I go out on Friday night

And I come home on Saturday morning

I go out on Friday night

And I come home on Saturday morning

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