| Has anybody her, seen my old friend Abraham,
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| Can you tell me where he’s gone,
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| He freed a lotta people,
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| But it seems the good die young,
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| I just looked around, and he’s gone.
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| Has anybody her, seen my old friend John,
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| Can you tell me where he’s gone,
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| He freed a lotta people,
|
| But it seems the good die young,
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| I just looked around, and he’s gone.
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| Has anybody her, seen my old friend Martin,
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| Can you tell me where he’s gone,
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| He freed a lotta people,
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| Ut it seems the good die young,
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| I just looked around, and he’s gone.
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| Didn’t you love the things they stood for,
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| Didn’t they try to find some good for you and me,
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| And we’ll be free,
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| Someday soon it’s gonna be one day.
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| Has anybody here, seen my old friend Bobby,
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| Can you tell me where he’s gone,
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| Thought I saw him walking up over the hill,
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| With Abraham, Martin and John.
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| Precious memories
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| How they linger
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| How they ever flood my soul
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| Then, the stillness of the midnight
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| Precious sacred scenes unfold |