| Like a bird on the wire,
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| like a drunk in a midnight choir
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| I have tried in my way to be free.
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| Like a worm on a hook,
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| like a knight from some old fashioned book
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| I have saved all my ribbons for thee.
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| If I, if I have been unkind,
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| I hope that you can just let it go by.
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| If I, if I have been untrue
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| I hope you know it was never to you.
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| Like a baby, stillborn,
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| like a beast with his horn
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| I have torn everyone who reached out for me.
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| But I swear by this song
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| and by all that I have done wrong
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| I will make it all up to thee.
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| I saw a beggar leaning on his wooden crutch,
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| he said to me, «You must not ask for so much.»
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| And a pretty woman leaning in her darkened door,
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| she cried to me, «Hey, why not ask for more?»
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| Oh like a bird on the wire,
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| like a drunk in a midnight choir
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| I have tried in my way to be free. |