| It was I
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| Poor as a baby and twice the fool
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| Feral and rude
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| The song that I sing
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| It is a tune in the key of
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| A young man with means
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| It was I
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| Bothered to witness
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| And pained to see
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| WIth two failing knees
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| Well into her age
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| Every morning my Grandmother
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| Would work for a wage
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| It’s a cold blooded tale
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| Here’s the last coffin nail..
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| So long to a life carefree
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| It’s passing by with each year or three
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| I’ll call it aloud
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| I’ll call it by name
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| The young and the vain
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| They are one and the same
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| It was I
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| Weathered, and battered
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| And compromised
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| Dull in the eyes
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| The song that I sung
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| It is the melody of one who longs to be young
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| It’s a cold blooded tale
|
| Here’s the last coffin nail..
|
| So long to a life carefree
|
| It’s passing by with each year or three
|
| I’ll call it aloud
|
| I’ll call it by name
|
| Beauty and loss
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| They are one and the same |