| Fairpoint Diary
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| words and music: Linford Detweiler
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| recording: Films For Radio
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| i can’t see my hands in front of my
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| face on a night like this
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| i just look back on my life
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| and think of all i’ve missed
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| i grew up south of here in towns
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| they tore apart for coal
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| as if to excavate the darkest
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| secrets of my soul
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| so it seems
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| life is just a troubled sea
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| that we sail for free
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| don’t let me drown
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| if the rest of the world’s goin' down
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| you’ve got to breathe your breath in me
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| everybody’s story is more
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| interesting than mine
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| it took me twenty-some-odd-years
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| to see i’d been born blind
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| so i just feel my way to you
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| i try to keep you close
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| i’m never very good at getting
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| what I need the most
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| so it seems
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| life is just a troubled sea
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| that we sail for free
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| don’t let me drown
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| if the rest of the world’s goin' down
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| you’ve got to breathe your breath in me
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| the darkest part of every night
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| is just before the dawn
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| the sun begins to rise
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| when we admit that we were wrong
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| so here i stumble home to you
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| to find the words to use
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| it seems the voices in my head
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| i seldom get to choose
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| so it seems
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| life is just a troubled sea
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| that we sail for free
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| don’t let me drown |