| Me and a couple friends, we had a big idea
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| About getting money and getting out of here
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| We were wide-eyed dreamers of wealth
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| We were getting tired of killing time
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| Filling up our heads with cheap wine
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| Jerry had a van so we could make our escape
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| He would say, 'boys our time has come
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| To live among the privileged ones'
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| Now it was Jerry’s plan but we all agreed
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| Skip town and split the money up evenly
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| Lay low 'til the winter rolled in
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| He said 'I know an old farmer doesn’t trust the bank
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| Keeps his money buried out behind his water tank
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| He told me once when he was out of his mind'
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| 'Oh, boys our time has come
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| To live among the privileged ones'
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| Now Jerry had a girl, the only one of us
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| To ever have one last and so no questions asked
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| She’d be the fourth one involved
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| Her name was Mary-Anne and she was nice enough
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| Always a cashier, only once in love
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| With Jerry — the dreamer and the clerk
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| Who said 'Boys our time has come
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| To live among the privileged ones'
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| So on that Friday night on which we all agreed
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| We took our shovels and crept out carefully
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| Through the farmyard darker than sin
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| The plan went off without a hitch
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| 'Til we passed the chicken coop and Mary tripped
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| Turned the hens to sirens in the night
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| And when the farmhouse lights turned on
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| A warning shot rang out into the dawn
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| And we ran like hell for Jerry’s van
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| But when we arrived we were only three
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| And while Jerry’s greed fed gas to the engine
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| His words showed us a coward we’d never seen
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| As he said 'Boys our time has come
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| We’re gonna save ourselves and live among the privileged ones' |