| My name is robert wilson
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| I’m from eau claire, wisconsin
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| I’ve been living out of a
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| Suitcase now for fourteen days…
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| I walked the boulevard in hollywood
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| I caught a vegas show that was no good --
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| Met a dancer there that starred in a broadway play
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| But it’s a lonely world from this greyhound
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| Believe me, I’ve been here fourteen days
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| Three thousand miles
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| I’ve been here fourteen days
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| Three thousand miles…
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| Now twenty-one is as good a guess as any age that I’d confess to
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| Let’s just say I’m old enough to get away
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| Back in school, I found the only written truth
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| On bathroom stalls and telephone booths
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| I studied awhile, but college got in my way
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| I’ve learned much more from the back of this greyhound
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| Believe me, I’ve been here fourteen days
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| Three thousand miles
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| I’ve come a long, long way
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| Three thousand miles…
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| Have you seen?
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| The world outside is turning --
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| And it’s yours --
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| We were put here for the learning
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| People talk to themselves on greyhounds
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| Even the driver strains to hear
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| They tell the same forgotten story --
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| Will it fall on forgetful ears?
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| Down in houston on comes this woman
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| With two kids and a bottle of booze
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| And she cracked them both like match heads
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| Whenever they ventured too close to her fuse
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| And I sat with a girl from boston
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| Playing cards for cigarettes
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| I lost her name with the poker game
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| But her name I will never forget --
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| You never forget the view from these windows
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| Believe me, I’ve been here fourteen days…
|
| Three thousand miles
|
| I’ve come a long, long way
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| Three thousand miles… |