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At seventeen the world was mine.
Times were good, and the chicks were fine.
I had no money, but lots of time.
The music rocked ...in ’59.
Cherry cokes and fries at Hal’s…
I’d ogle chicks hanging with my pals.
We found a way to get cokes free,
by pulling them out of machines we’d see.
Then we’d borrow a little bit of Jim Beam
from my dad’s bourbon stash…sight unseen.
We’d sneak to the creek on a dark Friday night,
and drink ‘til we felt just about right.
Then we’d go to the teen dance, stand near the floor,
and talk about how we were going to score.
Then at twelve it was always the same.
We’d walk home together–good weather or rain,
and talk about next time and who’d take the chance
to be the first one to ask some girl to dance.
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