| Day after day, alone on a hill
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| The man with the foolish grin is keeping perfectly still
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| But nobody wants to know him
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| They can see he’s just a fool
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| And he never gives an answer
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| But the fool on the hill sees the sun going down
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| And the eys in his head see the world spinning round
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| Well on the way, head in a cloud
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| The man of a thousand voices talking perfectly loud
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| But nobody ever hears him
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| Or the sound he appearss to make
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| And he never seems to notice
|
| But the fool on the hill sees the sun going down
|
| And the eyes in his head see the world spinning round
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| And nobody seems to like him
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| They can tell what he wants to do
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| And he never shows his feelings
|
| But the fool on the hill sees the sun going down
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| And the eyes in his head see the world spinning round
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| He never listens to them
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| He knows that they’re the fools
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| They don’t like him. |
| The fool on the hill sees the sun going down
|
| And the eyes in his head see the world spinning round |