| Fly away on them old wings, black as they may be
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| Believin' what you leave behind is burnt up junk debris
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| And ever last undying soul resides at a hotel in Saint Marie
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| Fly away on them old wings, black as they may be
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| Fly away on them old wings, black as they may be
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| Shimmerin' like a Leslie and a Hammond B3
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| Or a shaking tambourine at a gospel jubilee
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| Fly away on them old wings, black as they may be
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| Fly away on them old wings, black as they may be
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| Jangling and a-changling all the way to Tennessee
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| Trusting in a Duo Jet and a 9 volt battery
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| Fly away on them old wings, black as they may be
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| Fly away on them old wings, black as they may be
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| Strummin' on a Stella guitar and singin' 'Deportee'
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| That ain’t much of a repertoire, oh, no, Siree
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| Fly away on them old wings, black as they may be
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| Fly away on them old wings, black as they may be
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| You’re never gonna reach the sun or the Sunset Marquis
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| You’ll die like a saint on high alongside gamblers and thieves
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| Fly away on them old wings, black as they may be
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| Black as they may be |