| A tree grows in my back yard
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| It only grows at night
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| Its branches they’re all twisted
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| Its leaves are afraid of light
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| They say the blues is just a bad dream
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| They say it lives upside your head
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| But when it’s lonely in the morning
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| You’re bound to wish that you was lying dead
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| There’s winds out on the ocean
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| They’re blowing just as they choose
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| But then winds ain’t got no emotion, baby
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| And they don’t know the blues
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| They say the blues is just a bad dream
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| They say it lives upside your head
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| But when it’s lonely, lonely in the morning
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| You’re bound to wish that you was lying dead
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| My mind is rambling and rambling
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| Just like some rolling stone, no Since that nightmare’s come to stay with me, baby
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| My thoughts just don’t belong
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| They say the blues is just a bad dream
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| They say it lives upside your head
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| But when they visit you around midnight
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| You’re bound to wish that you were lying dead |