| These friends of mine live their lives
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| Spend their time, hoping to find
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| But who they are and how they’re made
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| They may be there, hope you find your way
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| These friends of mine, they have wife’s
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| They work hard to love and write
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| And when they left, it makes me high
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| To take a trip ten thousand miles before they fly
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| These friends of mine, they feel alone
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| When the shows are over, don’t know where to go
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| In Philadelphia at Christmas time
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| They question those, wonder why they try
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| And when the show is over
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| How I hope that they discover the joy that they bring
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| And I hope they remember this bond we have together
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| And oh, they love to sing
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| These friends of mine, they’re from New York
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| They were raised in Michigan
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| They don’t know things, they don’t hold hands
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| They guard their hearts the best they can
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| And when the show is over
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| How I hope they discover the joy that they bring
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| And I hope they remember this bond we have together
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| Oh, they love to sing, they sure love to sing
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| Maybe I needed this time to be reminded for myself
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| Maybe I needed this time to be reminded for myself
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| How I love to sing |