| Love doesn’t always present you with gold
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| With the very first person you hold
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| Love can shine early or come in from the cold
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| It can be young, middle-aged or be old
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| When those young wolves tracked down
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| That old wounded bear
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| It was you, the mountain and me
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| When those two hungry vultures
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| They circled the air
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| It was up that old mountain and me
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| When this pitiful life
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| It comes to an end
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| It’ll be you, the mountain and me
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| When I’ve found the right road
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| But I’ve lost all my friends
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| It’ll be you, the mountain and me
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| Now the sun’s disappeared
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| The rain’s moving in
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| The moon in the background just blushed
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| The cold steel of the mountain
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| Conceals a dark truth
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| That one of us may have been pushed
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| So with tears in my eyes
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| I’ll wait in the skies
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| And one thing I’ll know about you
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| God may not exist
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| The moon may be cheese
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| But that mountain and thee
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| Will be true
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| So when love hit this pair
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| Youth was no longer there
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| Just wisdom, laughter, and lines
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| Both had been lookers
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| But now chained to their cookers
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| And endless glasses of wine
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| When those old crows in Dumbo
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| They clapped my demise
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| So very much louder than any first prize
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| When they fell from above
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| And pecked out my eyes
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| It was up that old mountain and me
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| I won’t jump in that river
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| Or fall in that sea
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| I’ll fold your hand closely in mine
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| And tell you although
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| You’ve just found a new love
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| Your old one’s just gonna be fine
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| Cause you’re like the scariest
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| Sheerest of drops
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| That can jump from
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| Your balls to your throat
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| And I’m like that shelf
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| That you’re landing upon
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| And that beard on that
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| Old mountain goat |