| Lying in the nude with my Apple G4 cube
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| I am rendering a porcupine in Bryce
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| And in Stratavision Pro I’m designing where to grow
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| Little apples when I build a hay bale house
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| I heard on Ananova while snoozing in the clover
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| They’ve mapped the human genotype at last
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| And when the news was done I looked up into the sun
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| Through my Fuji DV1 and photographed a lone
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| Golden eagle like a Stealth jet on a test
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| As the cliches turn to truths
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| Like the trees begin to lose
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| Their leaves I think
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| I’ve lost where I belong
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| Tears fill up my eyes
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| Cos I’m leaving life behind
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| To live forever in a country music song
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| I drank and then I lied
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| I shot and then I died
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| I woke up under open country sky
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| Is West Virginia real
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| Here on my windshield
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| It sure as hell looks strange
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| In the weird Blue Mountain rain
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| Like a figment of my melancholy mind
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| The seasons as they turn
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| A log fire as it burns
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| Country music always at my heels
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| I’m becoming all the songs
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| I’ve been living them so long
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| I sometimes sing the words in Japanese
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| Break me out of jail
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| Before my memory fails
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| I don’t believe in destiny or God
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| Did a flying sauce come
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| Flying from the sun
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| And fry my brain and dazzle me with fog
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| Did it take my soul away
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| Is that why it’s all so strange
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| I’ve forgotten the refrain
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| Bury me at sea
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| Say Who the hell was he?
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| Or weep on bended knee
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| But say these lines:
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| 'Here lies a fool who never knew
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| Who he really was and threw away the little apples
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| The little apples of his mind' |