| I had a taste of bitter life
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| At sweet sixteen
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| I was growing up too fast
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| If you know what I mean
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| Met an older man
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| Who taught me his own way to live
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| And all I had to do to keep him
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| Was to give and give
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| The carousel man
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| Kept me going around and round
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| Carousel man always know
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| That I’d stay around
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| The carousel man
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| Wouldn’t let me off his merry-go-round
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| I followed him around in traveling shows
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| Along the main county lines
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| Watching him drinking his mind away
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| Not ever knowing my name at time
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| Each night when the show closed down
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| He used to tell me of his dreams
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| He was wearing new French suits
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| While I mended my torn jeans
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| The carousel man
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| Kept me going around and round
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| Carousel man always know
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| That I’d stay around
|
| The carousel man
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| Wouldn’t let me off his merry-go-round
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| Then one night in Santa Fe
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| The horses stop going around
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| There he was my poor rich man
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| Lying on the Mexico ground
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| All the sad music of his life
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| Is still spinning in my mind
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| The carousel starts up again
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| And I found my place in life
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| The carousel man
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| Kept me going around and round
|
| Carousel man always know
|
| That I’d stay around
|
| The carousel man
|
| Wouldn’t let me off his merry-go-round
|
| The carousel man
|
| Kept me going around and round
|
| Carousel man always know
|
| That I’d stay around
|
| The carousel man
|
| Wouldn’t let me off his merry-go-round |