| The son of a teacher didn’t learn a lot
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| Turning time with the hopeless in a vacant plot
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| Soaking up the streets in a colourful place
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| He lives in the spirit behind his face
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| People they laugh and pull his chain
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| While the government perpetuates the peoples pain
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| Jobs are scarce and life ain’t cheap and thus the young brother couldn’t get no
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| sleep
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| Cause he knows
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| It’s there
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| But the fool won’t scare
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| The ghost in his heart won’t go away
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| The ghost in the heart won’t go away
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| So he feeds it with love till the spirits say
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| That the ghost must go away
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| His left sober and undone
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| And the joy he once found don’t make no fun
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| In moments where he thinks, mother prayed
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| And father said forget what you have learnt
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| The street corner light, it offers hope
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| That he stuffs in a pipe and gladly smokes
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| And while he’s high the ghost it speaks
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| And his heart’s left troubled while it seeks
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| For heaven and grace
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| In this place
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| He walks with a smile on his face
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| Because he lives in a colourful place
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| He walks with at sown pace
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| The soles of his feet above disgrace
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| The son of the teachers falls in love
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| With an idea filled with romantic stuff
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| All too aware of tragic fate
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| But that’s how it is in a colourful place
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| For all time it’s there
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| But this fool won’t scare |