| My daddy said
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| «„Son, don’t you come to me cryin'
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| Cause money don’t make you a happy man“»
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| He said the grass is always greener
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| Any place except where you stand
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| He said some are born to win
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| And some born to lose
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| And sing them poor boy blues
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| Watch out
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| I’ve lived uptown, downtown
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| Lord I’ve lived everywhere
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| Almost drowned in the puddle of my own sweat I swear
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| I believe it’s due time I get my mansion in ole Bel Air
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| But I’m still singin' those poor boy blues
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| Poor boy blues
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| You don’t know how I’m feeling baby
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| Until you’re wearing my shoes
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| Sure as I’m standing here
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| I got them poor boy blues
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| Friday night I get tanked up
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| And tossed in the local slam
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| At least I get three square meals
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| Until someone gets me out of this jam
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| In the meanwhile all my green
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| Is going to Uncle Sam
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| Let’s walk this dog
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| Don’t hurt yourself now C. C |