| She’s lived alone in a little home
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| By the Township of King
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| In the morning she’d feed the birds
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| And listen to them sing
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| From the words they flock to her
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| Knowing she would do no harm
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| Flying over the patchwork quilt
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| Of the fields and the farms
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| Of the fields and farms, oh yeah
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| Then one day a yellow bird
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| Landed on her hand
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| Devoted, it sang to her
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| So that she could understand
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| It warned of the trucks coming up the road
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| Full of concrete and steel
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| Come to cut down all the trees
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| And pave over the field
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| Oh oh oh
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| Come come, the sky is grey
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| Come come, we’ll find a way
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| They were building an amusement park
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| Where the forest once did stand
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| With gypsum built a mountain
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| And they’ll call it Wonderland
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| I will feed you and care for you
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| Until you are strong and tall
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| And I will climb upon your back
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| And we’ll fly away in the fall
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| We’ll fly away, fly away
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| Come come, the sky is grey
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| Come come, we’ll find a way
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| Then one day they flew away
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| And it was the strangest thing
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| To watch them all fly as she waved goodbye
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| To the Township of King
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| To the Township of King, oh yeah |