| Long before I knew you I was tumbling back home
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| I was just pushing down the pavement
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| I was turning into stone
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| And you run, and you run, and you run, and you run got to pick up your knees
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| As long as she don’t kill us we’ll be stronger in the end
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| And every boy out there on Bogle Street is dying to get in
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| And you run, and you run, and you run, and you run got to pick up your knees
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| And you run, and you run, and you run, and you run got to pick up your knees
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| She gave me room to amble, with brier and bramble
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| And the old red door was always open to the angels and the devils
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| And nobody was young when they heard her mouth when she told us everything we
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| never knew
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| It was the song of the grande madame
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| Mother Maple I drink from your syrup
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| And I am thankful for the blood that you bleed
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| We’re in the sugar shack making our porridge
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| And you have given us more than we need
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| And I see more and more how you suffer, and not for nothing
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| But you can’t often get the air that you need
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| When your roots leave the earth I will stay and get my honey from the trees
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| Laughter in the cottage house, could last for hours long
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| When we heard the last gasp we all gave up our mother’s song
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| And you run, and you run, and you run, and you run, and you run
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| Mother Maple I drink from your syrup
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| And I am thankful for the blood that you bleed
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| We’re in the sugar shack making our porridge
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| And you have given us more than we need
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| And I see more and more how you suffer, and not for nothing
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| But you can’t often get the air that you need
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| When your roots leave the earth I will stay and get my honey from the trees |