| Wanted me to write you a letter
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| Here it is, left downriver, on the boat
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| And if these things I feel around me
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| Could reach you, they never will
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| You’re much too remote
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| Women walk in the shade with water jars
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| It’s so different here, so hot, no phones, or cars
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| It’s so different here
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| Its afternoon, we fall asleep, the people mend their nets,
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| They’ll be on the boats at sunrise
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| Watch them at their lives, they teach me much, I could not tell you moot
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| until you’ve seen my eyes
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| Women walk in the shade, with water jars
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| It’s so different here, so hot, no phones, or cars
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| It’s so hot…
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| We never built a conclusion, of our affairs, ups and downs
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| And now my job has bought me here
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| River still flows slowly, when the land is low
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| The mind weeps on, but I’m too hot to shed a tear
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| Women walk in the shade with water jars
|
| It’s so different here, so hot, no phones, or cars
|
| Women walk in the shade with water jars
|
| It’s so different here, so hot, no phones, or cars
|
| It’s so different here
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| It’s so hot here |