| There’s a blue rocking chair
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| Sittin in the sand
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| Weathered by the storms and well old hands
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| He sways back and forth with the help of the winds,
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| Seems to always be there, like an old trusted friend
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| I’ve read a lot of books,
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| Wrote a few songs
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| Looked at my life where it’s goin, where it’s gone
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| I’ve seen the world through a bus windshield, but nothing compares
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| To the way that I see it,
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| to the way that I see it,
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| to the way that I see it when I sit in that old blue chair
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| From that chair I’ve caught a few fish and some rays
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| And I’ve watched boats sail in and out of cinnamon bay
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| I let go of a lover that took a piece of my heart
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| I prayed many times for forgiveness and a brand new start
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| I’ve read a lot of books,
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| Wrote a few songs
|
| Looked at my life where it’s goin, where it’s gone
|
| I’ve seen the world through a bus windeshield, but nothing compares
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| To the way that I see it, to the way that I see it,
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| to the way that I see it when I sit in that old blue chair
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| That chair was my bed one New Year’s Night
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| When i passed out from too much malibu and I woke up to a hundred mesquito bites, I swear
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| Got 'em all sittin right there
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| In that old blue chair
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| There’s a blue rockin chair
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| Sittin’in the sand
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| Weathered by the storms and well old hands |