| Sara, when did you grow up?
|
| Did you throw up over my low shoes?
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| Sacel, how you’ve been drinking.
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| I know just how he was thinking of you.
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| Sara, go down to the river,
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| Cleanse your soul,
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| Till the skin sheds yours.
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| Sara, go down to the river,
|
| Cleanse your soul,
|
| Till the skin sheds yours.
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| Oh the leer of Union St. and its bright lights.
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| How does it feel in hindsight?
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| The love that it made to you.
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| Cuz I know Union St. in the morning,
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| There’s never been such yearning,
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| A bell that rang so true.
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| Sara, go down to the river,
|
| Cleanse your soul,
|
| Till the skin sheds yours.
|
| Sara, go down to the river,
|
| Cleanse your soul,
|
| Till the skin sheds yours.
|
| Sara, when did you grow up?
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| Did you throw up all over that sailor’s hands?
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| Did you walk down Union St. on your way back?
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| Does anyone know that?
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| Cuz I haven’t seen you since.
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| I haven’t seen you since.
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| I haven’t seen you since.
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| Nobody’s seen you since… |