| Saddle up that old gray mare for me
|
| I wanna ride until these eyes of mine can’t see
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| I never really feel like looking very much anymore
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| And nothing really matters till it’s closer than the house next door
|
| People talk a lot, but they can never find the heart and the soul
|
| To put a lot of time into more than just a search for gold
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| The river’s flowing dirty and it’s moving down to pass Christian
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| There used to be a time when it’s water was a healing hand
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| You’re born too late
|
| And everything you love is gone, gone
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| Born too late
|
| And everything you know is wrong
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| I’ve got a wife in Cleveland and she hates my guts
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| And everything about her’s a reflection of what drove me nuts
|
| I stopped to buy a beer inside the trading post and lost my keys
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| That somber wooden Indian by the door began to laugh at me, hey-a
|
| Born too late
|
| And everything you love is gone, gone
|
| Born too late
|
| And everything you know is wrong
|
| Born too late
|
| And my silver Catalina’s busy rusting in the cool night air
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| He’s only got a few more miles left beneath his hood out there
|
| I stood a while beside him and I thought about his thirst for oil
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| I thought about his greed for speed and how we’ve all got spoiled, hey-a
|
| You’re born too late
|
| And everything you love is gone, gone
|
| You’re born too late
|
| And everything you know is wrong
|
| You’re born too late
|
| And everything you love is gone, gone, gone
|
| You’re born too late
|
| And everything you know is wrong, ah yes
|
| Born too late
|
| Born too late
|
| Na, na, na, na
|
| Born too late
|
| Born too late |