| Like a leaf caught in the wind he drifted a while
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| With no purpose or direction to his life
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| He tried to get himself together and pacify his mind
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| And forget about the things he left behind
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| A cryin' woman standing in his door
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| With a two month old baby in her arms
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| His little black book he left torn upon the floor
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| And God only knows he never meant to do her wrong
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| A careless weekend on the other side of town
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| Has torn the king of Oak Street’s Castle down
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| And all week long he’s tried to phone her but she won’t let him explain
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| Now Sunday morning finds him walking in the rain
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| He sits now in a phone booth and he prays
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| That she’ll forgive him and she’ll believe he’s changed his ways
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| With shaking hands he deposits his last dime
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| And he’s still praying that she won’t hang up this time
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| Then the sweetest voice he’s ever heard says, ‽Hello
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| Breakfast’s almost ready baby, come on home
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| I’ve thought the whole thing over and I think I understand
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| That the king of Oak Street is just an ordinary manâ€
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| ‽I've thought the whole thing over and I think I understand
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| That the king of Oak Street is just an ordinary man†|