| You walk in the door, you see them sitting there
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| The old people in shawls, in silver wheel chairs
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| The blind and the lame, herded into a room
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| Where there is no one to love, and nothing to do
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| «Play us a waltz, play us a tune
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| I’ll pray for you Mister, each night in my room
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| My children are grown, my living is done
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| Oh say you’ll remember, my darling young one»
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| Here in this place, there are no last names
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| It’s Martha and Bill, and Sarah and Jane
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| Everything else, has been given away
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| To their children who don’t come, on visiting day (refrain)
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| Get them up in the morning, and see that they’re fed
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| Lay them back down at night, while they cry in their beds
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| In this worst kind of prison, where there ain’t no parole
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| No one sets them free, they’re unwanted and old (refrain)
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| You walk out the door, and they’re still sitting there
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| The old people in shawls, in silver wheel chairs
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| The blind and the lame, herded back to their rooms
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| Where there is no one to love, and nothing to do (refrain) |