| Now
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| I’m wakin' at the crack of dawn
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| To send a little money home
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| From here to the moon
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| Is risin' like a discotheque
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| And now my bags are down and packed for traveling
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| Lookin' at happiness
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| Keepin' my flavor fresh
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| Nobody knows I guess
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| How far I’ll go, I know
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| So I’m leavin' at Six O' Clock
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| Meet in a parkin' lot
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| Harriet Hendershot
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| Sunglasses on, she waits by this
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| Glass and concrete and stone
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| It is just a house, not a home.
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| Skin, that covers me from head to toe
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| Except a couple tiny holes and openings
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| Where, the city’s blowin' in and out
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| This is what it’s all about, delightfully
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| Everything’s possible
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| When you’re an animal
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| Not inconceivable
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| How things can change, I know
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| So I’m puttin' on aftershave
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| Nothin' is out of place
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| Gonna be on my way
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| Try to pretend, it’s not only
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| Glass and concrete and stone
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| That it’s just, not a home.
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| And it’s glass and concrete and stone
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| It is just a house, not a home
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| And my head is fifty feet high
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| Let my body and soul be my guide |