| Why is it that as we grow older and stronger
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| The road signs point us adrift and make us afraid
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| Saying, 'You never can win'
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| 'Watch your back', 'Where's your husband?'
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| I don’t like the signs that the signmakers made
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| So I’m going to steal out with my paint and brushes
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| I’ll change the directions, I’ll hit every street
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| It’s the Tinseltown scandal, the robin hood vandal
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| She goes out and steals the king’s English
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| And in the morning you wake up and the signs point to you
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| They say, «I'm so glad that you finally made it here
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| You thought nobody cared but I did, I could tell
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| And this is your year and it always starts here
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| And oh, you’re aging well»
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| Well I know a woman with a collection of sticks
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| She could fight back the hundreds of voices she heard
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| She could poke at the greed, she could fend off her need
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| And with anger she found she could pound every word
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| But one voice got through, caught her up by surprise
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| It said, «Don't hold us back we’re the story you tell»
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| And no sooner than spoken, a spell had been broken
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| And the voices before her were trumpets and tympani
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| Violins, basses and woodwinds and cellos, singing
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| «We're so glad that you finally made it here
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| You thought nobody cared, but we did, we could tell
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| And now you’ll dance through the days while the orchestra plays
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| And oh, you’re aging well»
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| Now when I was fifteen, oh I knew it was over
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| The road to enchantment was not mine to take
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| 'Cause lower calf, upper arm should be half what they are
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| I was breaking the laws that the signmakers made
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| And all I could eat was the poisonous apple
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| And that’s not a story I was meant to survive
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| I was all out of choices but the woman of voices
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| She turned round the corner with music around her
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| She gave me the language that keeps me alive, she said
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| «I'm so glad that you finally made it here
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| With the things you know now, that only time could tell
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| Looking back, seeing far, landing right where we are
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| And oh, you’re aging, oh and I am aging oh, aren’t we aging well?» |