| Sun on the hillsides
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| The river tells the trains to ride on
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| Like they’re racing that going sun
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| The main drag knocks along
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| Summer dames take their dresses for a walk
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| Down on the courthouse lawn;
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| And I walk the long mile of the exile
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| I guess I always will
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| Now the sun slides on the westside
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| Down behind the hills
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| It’s been a lonesome song of a day
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| I’d just as soon dodge the moon
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| As I’d try and dodge the thought of you
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| Everyday’s a song and you’re the proof
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| It wasn’t so long ago
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| When you put me out of doors
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| With nothing but a suitcase full of poems
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| You said I was sunlight at midnight…
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| A poet with the sea on my lips
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| You said my life rhymes with the lonesome lines
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| That drip from my fingertips
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| It’s been a lonesome song of a day
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| There’s a book I been meaning to write
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| About how my words are the proof that I’m alive
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| But it would take me ten lifetimes
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| So until I lay down for good
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| I’m gonna live each day the way I should
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| Like it’s the best song I’ve ever heard
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| You said I was sunlight at midnight…
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| A poet with the sea on my lips
|
| And now the sun slides on the westside
|
| Down behind the hills
|
| And it’s a lonesome song of a day |