| Sittin' alone in the dark,
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| Wastin' my time in a park
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| 'cause I’ve got nowhere to go.
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| Had me a job til the market fell out,
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| Tried hard to borrow but there was no help
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| Now I’ve got nowhere to go.
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| I need a job for these two hands
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| I’m a workin' man
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| With nowhere to go One last look at my land
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| Auctioneer with his gavel in hand
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| and he says «it's got to go.»
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| Worked this peice all my life
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| it broke my heart and it took my wife
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| Now I’ve got nothing to show
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| I need a job for these two hands
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| I’m a workin' man
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| with nowhere to go Wandered aimless in the city
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| with my dirt workin' boots and my old straw hat in hand
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| singing a song by Woody Guthrie
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| This land is your land; |
| it ain’t my land
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| I’m a workin' man, with nowhere to go
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| I was born to the sunrise
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| Breaking back all day
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| Now I’ve got something to say
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| I am broke but not broken
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| and I am not alone
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| cause there’s a lot of folks
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| with nowhere to go Are they ever gonna understand?
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| You can’t leave a workin' man
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| with nowhere to go.
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| Are they ever gonna understand?
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| You can’t leave a workin' man
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| with nowhere to go |