| Aw, Lucy came to fill whatever hole was in my soul
|
| Turned on a velvet station and out came rock 'n' roll
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| Then a river came down, oh, straight out of a cloud
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| Told me to sing about my soul
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| And I like where I am living
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| There are many pretty people
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| And we get to sit around
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| All the chairs inside the steeple
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| And contemplate the air
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| And the prayers they throw up there
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| And watch some come back down
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| While others make it out
|
| And when you get to feeling so bad
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| Sing a glad song
|
| And when you get to feeling so sad
|
| Sing a glad song
|
| And perhaps we’ll meet again, my friend
|
| Above the weather
|
| Oh, you and me
|
| Us together
|
| Oh, Jacob came to ease
|
| Whatever pain was in my knees
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| Said, «There's poetry in your soul
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| Wrap it up and let it go»
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| And our shoes were always broken
|
| There never was enough token
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| Each coffin is a top, man
|
| Each circle is a bottom
|
| And when you get to feeling so bad
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| Honey, just like dirt
|
| Take a glad, glad, glad, glad song
|
| And put it right where it hurts
|
| And perhaps we’ll meet again, my friend
|
| Above the weather
|
| Oh, and these coughs
|
| Oh, in our chest
|
| Will have gotten better
|
| And perhaps we’ll meet again, my friend
|
| Above the weather
|
| Oh, you and me
|
| Us together |