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Hey Kinky, I'm pregnant and living on 9th Street
Right above a dirty bookstore on Euclid Avenue
And I stopped taking dope and I quit drinking whiskey
And my old man plays the trombone, works out at the track
He says that he loves me, though it's not his baby
He says that he'll raise him up like he would his own son
He gave me a ring that was worn by his mother
He takes me out dancing every Saturday night
Hey Kinky, I think about you every time I pass a filling station
On account of all the grease you used to wear in your hair
Still have that record, Little Anthony and The Imperials
Someone stole my record player, now how do you like that?
Hey Kinky, I almost went crazy after Mario got busted
I went back to Omaha to live with my folks
Everyone I used to know was either dead or in prison
So came back to Minneapolis, this time I think I'm gonna stay
Hey Kinky, I think I'm happy for the first time since my accident
I wish I had all the money that we used to spend on dope
I'd buy me a used car lot, wouldn't sell any of them
I'd just drive a different car everyday, depending on how I feel
Hey Kinky, for Christ sakes, if you wanna know the truth of it
I don't have a husband, he don't play the trombone
And I need to borrow money to pay this lawyer
And Kinky, hey, I'll be eligible for parole come Valentine's Day