| Under a canoe, sheltered from the hail,
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| She lived six miles down the Portage Trail.
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| I met her mom. |
| I met her pop.
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| They looked at me and licked their chops.
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| She’s borne human, raised by wolves.
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| Will she ever understand my world?
|
| Borne human to the crazy world.
|
| Then, one day she wandered deep into the woods.
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| Into the woods, into the woods, into the woods.
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| She follows my hand, a map of veins,
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| To a fork in the low chow mein.
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| Her eyes get that michevious spark
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| Chasing pigeons down in the park.
|
| She’s borne human, raised by wolves.
|
| Will she ever understand my world?
|
| Borne human to the crazy world.
|
| Then, one day she wandered deep into the woods.
|
| Into the woods, into the woods, into the woods.
|
| (The woods, the woods, the deep-dark woods.)
|
| Borne human, raise by wolves.
|
| Will she ever understand my world?
|
| Borne human to the crazy world.
|
| Then, one day she wandered deep into the woods. |