| I grew up on an island
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| Somewhere near Chicago
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| Learned how to talk rough
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| Just like downtown
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| You could drive to the lake
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| And it sure seemed to me
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| It smelled like fresh water
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| But it felt like the sea
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| That’s right it’s so long now
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| You cannot fight this thing any old how
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| You can run fast, you can try so hard
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| But you can’t shake the ache or the lake of
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| Who you are
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| There was nothing to do
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| But to shut up and drive
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| To the water, down the backroads
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| To the south and east sides
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| Some girls got through high school
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| Some never will
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| Some walked with a hunger
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| They never would fill
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| That’s right it’s so long now
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| You cannot fight this thing any old how
|
| You can run fast, you can try so hard
|
| But you can’t shake the ache or the lake of
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| Who you are
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| You can cough out the city
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| You can change your old clothes
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| You can soften your accent
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| So nobody knows
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| But whenever I’m honest
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| Something in me
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| Still looks for fresh water
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| That feels like the sea
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| That’s right it’s so long now
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| You cannot fight this thing any old how
|
| You can run fast, you can try so hard
|
| But you can’t shake the ache or the lake of
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| Who you are
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| I close my eyes
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| And I can still see
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| That no one forgets
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| What it’s like to be
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| Who it is to be
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| If you see me inclining when no one is speaking
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| If you sense that I’m wandering somewhere in my mind
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| If you listen real close you might hear the whisper
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| Or see how the sunsets on the lake could shine and shine
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| That’s right it’s so long now
|
| You cannot fight this thing any old how
|
| You can run fast, you can try so hard
|
| But you can’t shake the ache or the lake of
|
| Who you are
|
| I grew up on an island somewhere near Chicago
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| Learned how to talk tough just like downtown |