| We pushed back at JFK
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| And watched our country fall away
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| Two lovers chasing hours into the dark
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| Who blacked their boots
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| And locked the doors
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| Now for richer and for poorer
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| Go vagabond and wild as a spark
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| It was a civilized affair
|
| You wore flowers in your hair
|
| Your mother’s dress
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| So white against your skin
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| The stars of pale blue
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| Above the morning found a new
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| And nameless country
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| Where no one had ever been
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| We raced the valleys down
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| Through the sleepy little towns
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| As blind as any traveler you could meet
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| They took us as we came
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| No one even asked our names
|
| Two Americans in corduroys
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| Kissing in the middle of the street
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| Back home behind closed doors
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| Where the bread and circus roars
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| They turn the volume up
|
| And pull the shade
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| But on the cobbles in the square
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| People laugh and smoke and stare
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| And no one looks to me like they’re afraid
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| At home the trees are turning
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| Red and gold the leaves are burning
|
| Ruined apples fall
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| Too heavy and too sweet
|
| But right here the birds are calling
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| The early stars are falling
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| For Americans in corduroys
|
| Kissing in the middle of the street
|
| Trading evening for midday
|
| We touched down at JFK
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| And our country rose to meet us in the air
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| With all its beauty and its lust
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| Its diamond teeth and heart of dust
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| That beats inside us
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| Though we travel anywhere |