| Out from my window across from the city
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| I have what’s considered a good view
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| Two blocks from the subway, three from the fountain
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| Where I walk to break in new shoes
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| She stands on the sidewalk just waving at taxis
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| Like horses in parades in passing
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| I ask where she’s headed, she tells me, «Ohio:
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| I’ve not seen my mother in ages»
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| «It's been a long time, a real long time
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| A real long time»
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| Out from my window «How far is Ohio?»
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| She laughed and pointed out east
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| She said, «I grew up there with my dear mother
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| And I haven’t seen her since thirteen
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| You see, I was taken while she lay sleeping
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| By my father’s hired men
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| We moved to the city so far from our family
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| I haven’t been back there since»
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| «It's been a long time, a real long time
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| A real long time»
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| Out from my window please hear me, Ohio
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| Your daughter wants to come home
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| She longs to be with you, to hug you, to kiss you
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| To never leave her alone
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| And I’ve gotten to know her, to live with, to love her
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| It’s hard to see her leave
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| She belongs to her mother and the state of Ohio
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| I wish she belonged to me
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| See you sometime, see you sometime
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| See you sometime |