| Oh, don’t you grieve, don’t cry, don’t weep, no
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| Your tears are just the creek on which you float away from me
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| You gotta have the heart of a lion
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| Hey don’t you sigh, don’t sigh, don’t breath, no
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| Your breath is just the air on which you drift away from me
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| You gotta have the lungs of a whale
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| Past packing day and it’s OK
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| Past packing day and it’s OK
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| Once was coming down to the wire
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| Lying in the steam, bogged in the mire
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| Hey don’t you look, don’t look, don’t see, no
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| Your vision’s just the road on which you drive away from me
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| You gotta have a love like a fire
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| Past packing day and it’s OK
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| Past packing day and it’s OK
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| We’re just a product of these times
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| And must not atone for lives of crime
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| We’re just a product of these times
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| And must not atone for lives of crime
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| For lives of crime
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| For lives of crime |