You’ve lost that loving feeling, and now it’s gone, gone, gone. Whoa.
[Ed McMahon]
Howw…
Hotttt …
Is She?
[/Ed McMahon]
Yeah, wouldn’t you love to love her?
But wait a minute, baby. Sara – she’s the poet of my heart.
And she knows how to use them
.
.
.
She is so fine
And she’s all mine
The girl is all right.
Ooooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhh Sara!!!
She loves to laugh DA DA
She loves to sing DA DA
She does everything DA DA DA DA DA DA DE DE
She loves to move DA DA
She loves to grove DA DA
She loves the lovin’ things DA DA DA DA DA DA DE DE
Ooh, all night DA DA
All night DA DA
OhHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH every night DA DA DA DA DA DA DE DE
So hold tight DA DA
Hold tight DA DA
Ooh, baby, hold tight DA DA DA DA DA DA DE DE
And I want her,
Sh*t I’ve got to have her
The girl is all right
I don’t care about you guys, but there’s a lady who knows that all that glitters isn’t gold, and she’s buying a stairway to heaven.
If there’s a bustle in your hedgerow, don’t be alarmed now. It’s just a springclean for the May Qeen.
Tripler
Heh heh, I said “May Queen”.
oh no! Bring back that loving feeling 'cause it’s gone, gone, gone. Whoawhoawhoaaa.
I remember asking my brother about his girl–the conversation usually went like this:
There’s a certain girl I’ve been in love with a long, long time
What’s her name? I can’t tell you (Ahh…)
I can’t reveal her name until she’s mine
What’s her name? I can’t tell you (Ahh…)
I’ve tried to make her time and time again
Still we’re introduced as nothing but friends
And there’s a certain girl I’ve been in love with a long, long time
What’s her name? I can’t tell you (Ahh…)
I don’t care what her name is.
Does she like baseball? Does she like the Red Sox? I’m dying over here.
I know what you mean. If a ten-ton truck happens to crush both of us, well, to die by her side would be a heavenly way to die.
No, but she has expressed a fondness for piña coladas.
I guess you’re all outta love? So lost with out her?
it’s a teenage sadness everyone has got to face,
and in-between age madness that you know you can’t erase,
'til :eek: 
She’s got to be somebody’s baby.
Her bulldog drinks champagne
She is five foot six and two fifteen
A bleached-blonde mama with a streak of mean
… all her buddies called her “Spike”
You can have Diane…I’ll take Jack…
Unless Louie, Louie’s available…
“Stiiiick
Stick my finger…”
You should have seen her in that teeny-weeny, eensy-weensy yellow polka-dot bikini.
She wore it for the first time todaaaay.
You know, I think of all the education that I missed. . .
But then my homework was never quite like this!
Tripler
Heh, I don’t feel ‘tardy’.