| The love cry of the traveling man goes
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| No one knows who I am
|
| But I’m as priceless as a brass ring
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| That’s losing the heat from your hand
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| A quiet man sits quietly, learning his lesson
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| The slow smooth wheel of disintegration
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| You don’t want them to talk to you
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| No you don’t want to take part
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| You say, «Just get me back to the leper colony
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| 'Cause that’s where you left my heart»
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| I feel time pass by like a joy, no medicine can preserve
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| Somewhere along the line, I lost my nerve
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| Maybe I’m almost there
|
| Maybe I’m almost there
|
| And maybe I’m almost there
|
| Maybe I’m almost there
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| Give me the keys to your theme park
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| Bury me under your layer of snow
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| And watch me ride all the rides
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| Around and around I go
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| I don’t know if I’ve reached the bottom yet
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| And I don’t know if the ice has finally begun to set
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| I feel time pass like a joy, I tried so hard to relearn
|
| But somewhere along the line, I passed the point of no return
|
| Maybe I’m almost there
|
| Maybe I’m almost there
|
| Yeah, maybe, maybe I’m almost there
|
| Maybe I’m almost there
|
| The love cry of the traveling man goes
|
| No one knows who I am
|
| But I’m as priceless as a brass ring
|
| That lost the heat from your hand |