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A sensitive, heartfelt, emotional, treacly expression of a commonly expressed early 80's sentiment. |
Credits: Written by David Moye |
Lyrics
Who was the 37th woman I made love to?
What was her name cause I don't have a clue
The two of us we shared a love sublime,
But I had a lot of things going on at the time
Chorus:
She was good in bed, no time for slumber
I wrote down her name but I lost that number
If I knew how to reach her,
You know I'd give her a call
And ask her of she had any plans at all
The 37th Woman
Who was the 37th woman that came through these doors
She had long black hair, she had large deep pores
Cried like a baby ripe for the thrill
Kept wanting to hear songs from the soundtrack of The Big Chill, still
Chorus
Instrumental
Spoken interlude
Number 37 she was always good to me,
Our fourteen hours together I will cherish endlessly
If I lose out on love this time I've only myself to blame
If I remember her face, I'm sure I'd remember her name because
Chorus
What was her name?
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