| Artist: Spearhead
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| Album: Home
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| Song: 100,000 Miles
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| I need a reason to get up /before I wash my face
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| The junkies, the Hookers, the dealers the place
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| Kickin' off my covers / trippin' off the fact
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| That I haven’t called my gramma in a long, long time
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| Standin in the shower/ for almost half an hour
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| Tryin' to wake up/ and I’m lookin for the power
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| Reachin' for the towel/ with soap in my eyes
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| Dryin' off my shoulders,/ my chest, and my thighs
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| The next thing I know/ the telephone rings
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| I hear my own voice /on the answering machine
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| Please leave a message/ I’m glad ya called
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| I listen for a voice /but there’s nothin' at all
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| Man oh Man
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| I gotta kick the blues
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| And pay respect where respect is due
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| All praises to GOD the one I return to
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| The one I can turn to
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| When I’m feelin burned to the bone
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| Early in the morn/ before I wash my face
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| The bed is still warm but there’s an empty space
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| Easrly in the morn/ before I wash my face
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| A hundred thousand miles is a lonely place
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| At six in the morning /she rolled outa bed
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| Stared out the window/ and then she said
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| That I wasn’t her type…
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| I think she’s runnin outa types though… and I told her so
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| She picked up her things and walked through the door
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| And then said that she couldn’t see me no more
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| Just as she was leaving /I asked her if she’d call
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| She didn’t look back / said nuttin at all
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| I didn’t change my clothes/ because they smell like you
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| And when I took a shower it reminded me of you
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| I called Gramma Brown/for advice
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| It happened to me once/it happened to me twice
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| Michael/ my son/ you sound really bugged
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| I wish that you were here /so I could to you give
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| A hug then she gave me/ a long, long talk
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| She said «you have the patience /of ice on a sidewalk»
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| When things get rough/ don’t sweat it
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| Sometimes in life you just have to let it
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| And sing out a song / so strong
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| That even a bad dream couldn’t bring harm
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| To the mind of a young childs battles
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| Formed from the candle light shadows
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| Her voice is like a whispering kiss on the forehead
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| Early in the morn/ before I wash my face
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| The bedisstill warmbut there’s an empty space
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| Early in the mornin/beforeIwashmy face
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| A hundred thousand miles is a lonely place
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| In the last thirty minutes/before I fall asleep
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| When I have said my prayers /and I have brushed my teeth
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| This is the time /when I am forced to think about
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| All of the things/ I been tryin to forget about
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| The Bills, the phone, cleanin up my room
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| The cars, the traffic, the speakers and the boom
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| Alone I remember /the times with me and you
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| And I realize my heart is shakin' up the room
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| Gramma she would tell us /about the glory days
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| And gramma she would tell us/ about when we were slaves
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| In the livin' room/ pianos outa tune
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| On top of it the pictures /of every bride and groom
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| Child/ grand child /lost child
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| Every single tear shed / every single smile
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| 'cause everybodies got/ alota shit to deal with
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| And life doesn’t stop/ it just makes ya feel it
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| So shake the dust/ offa your feet
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| Take a step forward/ liberate with the beat
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| So for you/ I wrote this song
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| I wanted you to hear it/ before you are gone
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| The African in me/ the Seminole in me
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| These are some a things my grandmother gave
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| To me some believe there are and some believe there
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| Ain’t if ever there was one my gramma Brown she is a saint
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| Early in the morn/ before I wash my face
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| The bed isstill warmbut there’san empty space
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| Earlyin themornin/ before I wash my face
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| A hundred thousand miles is a lonely place |