| Be not so pure man
|
| Be not so sure man
|
| You’ve been here for long enough to know
|
| Be not so old man
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| And be not so cold man
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| Cause the winter’s coming and you ought to know
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| There is no ocean
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| Big enough to hold it down
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| No there ain’t enough warmth dear
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| In this cold forsaken town
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| I’ve been getting to leaving
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| Don’t you know that I love you most
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| I just need a little mystery
|
| Like the misty Oregon coast
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| Be not so love all
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| Be not so trouble
|
| You’ve been here for long enough to know
|
| The sun also sets
|
| So we’re bringing in the bets
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| And the winner’s coming but the running’s slow
|
| For all the places that I can’t recall by name
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| And all the faces that have taken too much blame
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| I’ve been getting to leaving
|
| I’ve been aching for holy smoke
|
| I just need a little mystery
|
| Like the misty Oregon coast
|
| It is a wonder the buildings fear of death can raise
|
| It is a wonder the fools fear of death can praise
|
| I’ve been getting to leaving
|
| I’ve been aching for holy smoke
|
| I just need a little mystery
|
| Like the misty Oregon coast |