| Back in the sixties when we were all hippies
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| with patched up jeans and long long hair
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| somebody started a crazy rumor
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| they were pretty sure they read somewhere
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| Now I can see it comin' when people start to say
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| I made a bet with my best friend
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| you can settle it just for the record
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| but they don’t believe me when I tell them
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| Neil Young is not my brother
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| we hardly know each other
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| the DNA is in and he’s not my kin
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| Neil Young is not my brother
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| He’s got a ranch in Northern California
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| where the deer and the buffalo roam
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| I’ve never been there i hear it’s real nice
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| I saw a picture in Rolling Stone
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| Neil Young is not my brother
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| bad news for my mother
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| she could use the bucks
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| he’s rich as Donald Trump
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| but Neil Young is not my brother
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| You won’t find me on his Facebook page
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| no blogs no twitter no passes backstage
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| If Neil Young was my brother
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| we’d hang out with one another
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| I’d drive his electric car and play his vintage guitars
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| if Neil Young was my brother
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| Neil Young is not my brother |