| Imagine a place where you don’t need a name
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| And you don’t need a license to open your mind
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| Well, it’s a traveling circus of jokers and clowns
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| A movie picture that’s one of its kind
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| And this place is the only place
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| Where even the clergy dance in the rain
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| And I know if I was stronger
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| I’d change my ways and join the parade with you
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| From the backstreets of this island
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| Move on, move on
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| To the walkways of the mainland
|
| Move on
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| Dirty face and oily hands
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| But a dament of life so clean and so pure
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| And in a perfect world the rights of man
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| Could never betray the rights of the land
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| And this way is the only way
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| The pilgrims walk a trail of song
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| And I know if you were stronger
|
| You’d change your ways, you’d join the parade with me
|
| From the backstreets of this island
|
| Move on, move on
|
| To the walkways of the mainland
|
| Move on
|
| Deeper and deeper, my blood runs deeper
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| Under the skies of time
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| Higher and higher, my soul leaps higher
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| Over the clay and lime
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| Deeper and deeper, my blood runs deeper
|
| Under the skies of time
|
| Higher and higher, my soul leaps higher
|
| Over the clay and lime
|
| From the backstreets of this island
|
| Move on, move on
|
| To the walkways of the mainland
|
| Move on
|
| From the backstreets of this island
|
| Move on, move on
|
| To the walkways of the mainland
|
| Move on |