| I was walking through the counters of a national concern
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| And a cash machine was spitting by my shoulder
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| And I saw the multitude of faces, honest, rich and clean
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| As the merchandise exchanged and money roared
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| And a woman hot with worry slyly slipped a tin of stewing steak
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| Into the paper bag at her side
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| And her face was white with fear in case her actions were observed
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| So she closed her eyes to keep her conscience blind
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| Crying God knows I'm good
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| God knows I'm good
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| God knows I'm good
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| God may look the other way today
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| God knows I'm good
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| God knows I'm good
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| God knows I'm good
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| God may look the other way today
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| Then she moved toward the exit clutching tightly at her paper bag
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| Perspiration trickled down her forehead
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| And her heart it leapt inside her as the hand laid on her shoulder
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| She was led away bewildered and amazed
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| Through her deafened ears the cash machines were shrieking on the counter
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| As her escort asked her softly for her name
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| And a crowd of honest people rushed to help a tired old lady
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| Who had fainted to the whirling wooden floor
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| Crying God knows I'm good
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| God knows I'm good
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| God knows I'm good
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| Surely God won't look the other way
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| God knows I'm good
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| God knows I'm good
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| God knows I'm good
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| Surely God won't look the other way
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| Hey! |