| I’m a house wren, hunting for a house
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| I haven’t found one, I’m on the lookout
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| For a home to call my own
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| A private residence
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| Through the grapevine I heard an empty gourd
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| Is hangin' up somewhere on some old lady’s porch
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| I’ll pack my bags and off I’ll go
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| To my new humble abode
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| I’m gonna sing at the top of my lungs
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| 'Cause it’s a beautiful day
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| I’m gonna spread my wings
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| 'Cause as far as I know
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| I am halfway home
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| I’m a house wren who needs a summer home
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| A country farmhouse or a quiet bungalow
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| Not too big, and not too small
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| First-rate real estate
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| I got my eyes peeled for a window box
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| An old tin can, a boot or a flower pot
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| I’ll pack my bags and off I’ll go
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| To my new humble abode
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| I’m gonna sing at the top of my lungs
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| 'Cause it’s a beautiful day
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| I’m gonna spread my wings
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| 'Cause as far as I know
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| I am halfway home
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| I’m a house wren still hunting for a house
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| But I got a song and a lot to sing about
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| I’ll pack my bags and off I’ll go
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| Because you know
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| I’m gonna sing at the top of my lungs
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| 'Cause it’s a beautiful day
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| I’m gonna spread my wings
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| I’m on top of the world
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| And it’s a beautiful thing
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| I’m gonna sing at the top of my lungs
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| 'Cause it’s a beautiful day
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| I’m gonna spread my wings
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| 'Cause as far as I know
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| I am halfway home
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| I am halfway home |