| Take a litle walk to the edge of town
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| Go across the tracks
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| Where the viaduct looms,
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| like a bird of doom
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| As it shifts and cracks
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| Where secrets lie in the border fires,
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| in the humming wires
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| Hey man, you know
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| you’re never coming back
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| Past the square, past the bridge,
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| past the mills, past the stacks
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| On a gathering storm comes
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| a tall handsome man
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| In a dusty black coat with
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| a red right hand
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| He’ll wrap you in his arms,
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| tell you that you’ve been a good boy
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| He’ll rekindle all the dreams
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| it took you a lifetime to destroy
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| He’ll reach deep into the hole,
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| heal your shrinking soul
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| Hey buddy, you know you’re
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| never ever coming back
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| He’s a god, he’s a man,
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| he’s a ghost, he’s a guru
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| They’re whispering his name
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| through this disappearing land
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| But hidden in his coat
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| is a red right hand
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| You ain’t got no money?
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| He’ll get you some
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| You ain’t got no car? |
| He’ll get you one
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| You ain’t got no self-respect,
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| you feel like an insect
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| Well don’t you worry buddy,
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| cause here he comes
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| Through the ghettos and the barrio
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| and the bowery and the slum
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| A shadow is cast wherever he stands
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| Stacks of green paper in his
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| red right hand
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| (Organ solo)
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| You’ll see him in your nightmares,
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| you’ll see him in your dreams
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| He’ll appear out of nowhere but
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| he ain’t what he seems
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| You’ll see him in your head,
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| on the TV screen
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| And hey buddy, I’m warning
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| you to turn it off
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| He’s a ghost, he’s a god,
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| he’s a man, he’s a guru |