| If I could look across the country
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| From California to New Jersey
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| Then I would count the parks and lake resorts
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| And number all the jets and airports
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| All those rather dreary rain clouds still bother me
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| 'Cause I look through the camera eyepiece and cannot see
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| If I could open up my window
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| And see from Tampa Bay to Juneau
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| Then I would survey all those open miles
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| And line them up in single file
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| Everywhere I look I see green scenic sublime
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| And all those oceanic vistas are so divine
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| If I was standing on the balcony
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| And you were walking down below
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| I’d feel rather depressed and out of place
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| And lonely just to watch you go
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| If you were swinging from the highway overpass
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| Within the western hemisphere
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| I’d feel rather afraid and insincere
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| If you began to disappear
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| If I was walking through a sad art gallery
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| And you were driving through the night
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| I’d feel rather alone and ill at ease
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| Beneath the brilliant showroom light
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| If I was flying on a plane above your town
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| And you were gazing at the sky
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| Somehow I’d feel intact and reassured
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| If you began to wave goodbye |