| Summer comes, and I remember a time
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| When I was young, and I was always changing my mind
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| I could be anyone I wanted, travel great travels
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| I had everything I needed
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| In a small room I had big ideas
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| And now I’m trying to hold on to those big ideas
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| Oh, I know…
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| Those days are through, but I still think of you,
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| Philadelphia
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| And all the music… you know, it was my protection
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| I didn’t need no one, 'cause I found affection
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| In the six strings of an old guitar and my radio
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| I moved to the beat of the hot streets
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| Where the people were singing and dancing and waving
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| Their hands in the air
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| While my Mama, she shook her head, and she said «Lord
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| Have mercy»
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| And once again… The good ol' days are gone; |
| ain’t it
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| Funny how we still carry on, Philadelphia
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| I had to leave; |
| knew I had to look to other places
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| To try out my big ideas in front of all these faces
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| And hope that the lessons and beauty of being young
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| Someone with the imagination of a child
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| Could bring a smile to all these faces
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| From a small room, Room 222, I’ve seen it happen many
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| Times before
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| And I know, I know, I know, I know I’ll see it happen
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| Again
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| If I can just keep…
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| Remembering that those special things… and the big
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| Ideas
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| And all the lovely, lovely music will always be a part
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| Of me, Philadelphia |