| A horse needs to run, a heart needs to bleed. |
| An engine can’t gain the miles if
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| it’s kept pristine
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| If the view of change is constant just like I’ve been told is any back yard the
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| boundless starts to all directions unknown
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| Will I be there? |
| Will I be there?
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| When all the stories fade, when I am out of breath?
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| My yoke is, your yoke is, restin' on our shoulders and we share the weary load
|
| My yoke is, your yoke
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| We’re just like two aging truckers down the road
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| Ah
|
| Ah
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| Children of our parents, a storybook held close
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| A mom and dad’s heart-felt work is work down to the bone
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| And the leveraging meant everything, so a palace for a home
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| The remains of the day — were never shown, never known
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| Will I be there? |
| Will I be there?
|
| When all the stories fade, when I am out of breath?
|
| My yoke is, your yoke is, restin' on our shoulders and we share the weary load
|
| My yoke is, your yoke
|
| We’re just like, two aging truckers down the road
|
| Ah
|
| Ah
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| We now work in reverse, we salvage and we save
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| We fight the rust, one if by land, two if by grace
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| Sure as the spring will hail the greenest in all things
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| Let the freshest of our love set sail and and float the open breeze
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| Will I be there? |
| Will I be there?
|
| When all the stories fade, when I am out of breath?
|
| Will I be there? |
| Will I be there?
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| When all the stories oh!
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| My yoke is, your yoke is, restin' on our shoulders and we share the weary load
|
| My yoke is, your yoke
|
| We’re just like, two aging truckers down the road
|
| Ah
|
| Ah
|
| Two aging truckers down the road
|
| Ah
|
| Ah
|
| Two aging truckers down the road
|
| Ah
|
| Ah
|
| Two aging truckers down the road
|
| Ah
|
| Ah |