| You know a lot can happen after everybody falls asleep
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| Ask the forest fire, ask the cop walking on the beat
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| And do right by them, work a little in your dreams
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| Don’t let time rob you, hold onto your memories
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| In the glass houses, in the pages of the Rolling Stone
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| I get a sick feeling, like I’m rocking in a little boat
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| I hear the big church bell, it’s ringing like a mobile phone
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| It’s such a long Sunday drive to be taking it all alone
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| I want to belong to a reason
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| And cut a new key to the kingdom
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| And if anybody asks me, say I want to belong
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| If anybody asks me, say that it won’t take long now
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| If anybody asks me, say I’m going to get it done
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| If anybody asks me, say I got a reason, oh
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| In the vast hard drive, in the satellites that kick and spin
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| They keep the old footage so everything can live again
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| Pretty pink roses, the ostrich and the elephant
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| It’s the last Noah’s ark, so everything’s got to fit
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| In the creased pages of a letter I been trying to send
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| To a young widow who is desperate for some kind of friend
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| You’ll find a long list of eligible, handsome men
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| Who want to lay with her upon the table of the elements
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| They’re going to hold strong to a reason
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| And cut a new key to the kingdom
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| And if anybody asks 'em, say they’re going to belong
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| And if anybody asks 'em, say that it won’t take long now
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| And if anybody asks 'em, say Man I’m trying to get it done
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| And if anybody asks 'em, say they’ve got a reason, oh |