Arrivederci Arrivederci I'm cutting my hair Tell fish and Tracy the weather's fair Been eleven hours were on a dare Arrivederci to my old chair I've been told that the old Who bargain and save They get sold For the gold On the little kings grave So goodbye to screamers And goodnight Irene A salty whisker won't hurt anything Find out more about Arrivederci by clicking this link:
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