Subject: Love in the Hot Afternoon - By Gene Watson
>From somewhere outside, I hear a street vendor cry "fillet gumbo"
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>From my window I see him, going down the street and he don't know
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That we fell right to sleep in the damp tangled sheets so soon
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After love in the hot afternoon
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Now the bourbon street lady, sleeps like a baby in the shadows (in the
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She was new to me, full of mystery, but now I know (but know I know)
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That she's just a girl, and I'm just a guy, in a room
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For love in the hot afternoon
We got high in the park, this morning and we sat, without talkin'
Then she came back here, in the heat of the day, tired of walkin'
Where under her breath, she hummed to herself a tune
Of Love in the hot afternoon