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Published on May 7, 2010
Poor old Johnny Ray Sounded sad upon the radio, he moved a million hearts in mono. Our mothers cried and sang along and who'd blame them. Now you're grown, so grown, now I must say more than ever. Go Toora Loora Toora Loo-Rye-Aye and we can sing just like our fathers.
Come on Eileen, I swear (well he means) At this moment you mean everything, With you in that dress my thoughts I confess verge on dirty Ah come on Eileen.
These people round here wear beaten down eyes Sunk in smoke dried faces they're so resigned to what their fate is, But not us, no not us we are far too young and clever. Remember Toora Loora Toora Loo-Rye-Aye Eileen I'll hum this tune forever.
Come on Eileen, I swear, well he means Ah come on let's take off everything, That pretty red dress Eileen (Tell him yes) Ah come on let's, ah come on Eileen, please.