| On the top of an office block
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| Sits a man of business, a man of means, he got
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| In-trays and ashtrays and he’s
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| Up to his neck in computers and tragedy queens
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| Undermining his overdraft with lunches with the president
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| He got indecision and indigestion
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| And he wonders where the last ten million went
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| What do i get when I say to his face?
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| Let me take you to a better place
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| Wild horses wouldn’t drag me there
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| Wild horses wouldn’t make me care
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| I know where I belong
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| And I’ve been here too long
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| Wild horses wouldn’t drag me there
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| Wild horses wouldn’t make me care
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| I know where I belong
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| And I’ve been here too long
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| On the side of a mountain lives a man of nature, a man of peace
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| He got no food and no money and he’s
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| Waiting for his merciful release
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| Works his fingers to the bone
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| Just to make it through the winter snows
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| He’s got nothing to do and no one to do it to
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| And he wonders where the buffalo goes
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| But what do i get when i say to his face?
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| Let me take you to a better place
|
| Wild horses wouldn’t drag me there
|
| Wild horses wouldn’t make me care
|
| I know where I belong
|
| And I’ve been here too long
|
| Wild horses wouldn’t drag me there
|
| Wild horses wouldn’t make me care
|
| I know where I belong
|
| And I’ve been here too long
|
| Wild horses wouldn’t drag me there
|
| Wild horses wouldn’t make me care
|
| I know where I belong
|
| And I’ve been here too long
|
| Wild horses wouldn’t drag me there
|
| Wild horses wouldn’t make me care
|
| I know where I belong
|
| And I’ve been here too long |