| I’m standing at a traffic light somewhere in West LA
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| Waiting for the sign to change then I’ll be on my way
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| The noise, the heat, the crush of cars just robs me of my nerve
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| And someone yells and blasts their horn and pins me to the curb
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| I’m a stranger here
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| No one you would know
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| My ship has not come in But I keep hoping though
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| And I keep looking past
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| The sun that sets above
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| Saying to myself
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| Goodnight America
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| And I’m driving into Houston on a rain slicked Texas road
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| Land so flat and sky so dark I say a prayer to float
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| Should all at once the Sanasito surge beyond it’s banks
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| Like Noah reaching higher ground I’d offer up my thanks
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| Cause I’m a stranger here
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| No one you would know
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| I’m just passing through
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| I am therefore I go The moon rose in the east
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| But now it’s right above
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| As I say aloud
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| Goodnight America
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| Midnight,
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| It’s hard to see the stars out on a highway near Atlanta
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| Full of strip malls and used cars
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| First light,
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| Just roll your window down
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| And smell the salty air perfume of Charleston town
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| I’m looking with a pilgrim’s eyes upon some promised land
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| And dreaming with my heart outstretched as if it were my hand
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| And I’ll hit the cross Bronx just in time to beat the rush hour lock
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| I’ve got no clue what time it is from this world’s busted clock
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| I’m a stranger here
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| No one you would know
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| I’m from somewhere else
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| Well isn’t everybody though
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| I don’t know where I’ll be When the sun comes up Until then, sweet dreams
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| Goodnight America |