| If I was a baby with nothing to hide
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| I would be saving prayers all of the time
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| I would not think of to whom they’re addressed
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| I’d have my mouth on the mystery’s breast
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| Little boy blue in the corn with his horn
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| Pouring out music the day he was born
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| Son of a gun and it’s holster in love
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| He can’t remember what he is made of
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| Ooh…
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| Teenage Maria is caught in the door
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| Not understanding what her body’s for
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| All of the pieces begin to align
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| Sick to her stomach she feels like she’s flying
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| Man with a magazine over his face
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| Wishes that he was in some other place
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| Life is a waiting room for those who wait
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| All of it’s terrible all of it’s great
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| Ooh…
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| Grandfather Elliott out on the beach
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| Watching Ma’s paper blow out of his reach
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| He cannot tell her his soul could be going
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| So busy always with his bluster and blowing
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| If I was a baby and I could be blessed
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| I would sing true love out of your chest
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| I’d get the paper I’d get myself dressed
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| I’d keep my mouth on the mystery’s breast
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| Ooh… |