| When I was a young boy, pride of my family
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| And my mama used to hang me out to dry
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| You know the boy couldn’t have it
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| Sometimes he just had to find
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| A hiding place to hang his head and cry
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| Talking about a hiding place, hiding place
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| Little bit of shelter from the blues
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| Here I am as a young man, my feet out on the highway
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| Summer breeze to tell me what to do
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| I might meet a young lady and stop off for a while
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| Reality thought blowing through
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| Talking about a hiding place, hiding place
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| A little bit of shelter from the blues
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| And it ain’t no disgrace if you gotta hide your face
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| We all need the hiding place to get us through
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| Yes, we do
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| Oh, I can tell the difference between right and wrong
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| I can’t always tell which one’s best for me
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| But I know this dirty city like the back of my dirty hand
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| And still can’t seem to find no sanity
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| Now I’m looking out a window and you are looking in
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| And we both are thinking and we like just what we see
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| You say you can’t be certain, baby, what I see in you
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| But you’re what you see in me
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| Talking about a hiding place, a hiding place
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| Just a little bit of shelter from the blues
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| And it ain’t no disgrace if you got to hide your face
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| We all need a hiding place to get us through
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| Talking about a hiding place, hiding place
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| We all need a hiding place to get us through |