| Where are all my old friends?
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| It’s been a long time gone
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| We’ve been drifting apart for so many years
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| I hope they’re still marching on
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| Some are probably happy with families
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| Working hard to get ahead
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| Some of them are lost, some are wandering
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| Some of them are already dead
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| Who do you think you are? |
| It’s the life you made
|
| Don’t be afraid of the hands you played
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| There’s an old man sleeping in a parking lot
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| I wonder what he dreams about
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| Businessmen in suits taking meetings over coffee
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| Trying to buy each other out
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| There’s an officer, a senator, a digger
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| And a sewer, a beggar and a thief
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| They all sit at different tables
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| But they drink the same poison as me
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| Who do you think you are? |
| It’s the life you made
|
| Don’t be afraid of the hands you played
|
| Who do you think you are? |
| It’s the life that you made
|
| Don’t be afraid of the hands you played
|
| Well, the power went out and the stars came out
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| And I went out for a walk in the dark
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| There were fireflies flitting and I heard the poets spitting
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| Rhymes out in the park
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| And I felt myself drift up off the ground
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| And I rose above the trees
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| And I saw my life in photographs of faded memories
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| Who do you think you are? |
| It’s the life that you made
|
| Don’t be afraid of the hands you played
|
| Who do you think you are? |
| It’s the life that you made
|
| Don’t be afraid of the hands you played |