| You ask me why I sing no love songs
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| You say the songs that I sing make you angry and sad
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| You say that you listen to music
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| To escape from the things that make you feel bad
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| You say that all that I sing of is trouble
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| And that doesn’t entertain you
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| You say that I should be trying to make people happy
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| Well, strange as it seems, that’s just what I’m trying to do
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| I could close my eyes to the suffering
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| I could switch off my mind and sing pretty songs
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| I could close my ears to the crying
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| I could sing, take the money and run
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| But that wouldn’t help those in trouble
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| That wouldn’t help make their pain disappear
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| And the homeless, the workless, the hopeless and helpless
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| Wouldn’t be any happier, would still live in fear
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| So I’ll keep trying to make people happy
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| I’ll keep trying in the best way I know how
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| And for me to help make the most people happy
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| I must make you even more sad and angry now
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| So you see where you misunderstand me
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| If you listen again then you might even find
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| All the songs that I sing are love songs
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| But their love is a different kind |