| Savin Hill my starting point
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| Down the beach with a few beers
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| Didn’t know what life had in for us
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| Starting out at St. Margarets
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| Up there on that lonely hill
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| I got my start in 1970
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| Moved on down to Motley school
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| Down to St. Willies from there
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| The catholic golden rule got hooks in me
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| Sister Robad, Ms. Coughlin, the teachers and their authority
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| I put my fists up to them at every turn
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| Savin Hill it was my start
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| Beginning of a lifetime
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| I still remember those days clearly
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| Cannot forget my roots
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| Or when it really started
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| Savin Hill down by the beach
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| Grades on to eight were nuts
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| Hi-jinx, stunts and pranks pulled out
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| Me and my cousin Bill, the terrible two
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| Danny, Joey, Robby, John, Saxon and Victoria
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| Many a long neck bottle cracked down there
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| Savin Hill it was my start
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| From the courts back to the park
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| The weekend time seemed so damn free
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| If you had my back, I took yours
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| Our obligatory creed
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| Savin Hill down by the beach
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| Do you remember the tennis courts?
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| The bungalow or Harpo’s bench
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| Do you remember jumping that bridge?
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| The risks we took and our chances?
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| GO!
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| The later years brought on alcohol nights
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| Coupled with petty arguments and barroom fights
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| We never broke apart and we stood our ground
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| If a cohort was lost he was found
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| If things got hot, Dorchester stayed cool
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| No other townies came toward us fools
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| Savin Hill down by the beach
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| It’s these memories I’ll go preach
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| Savin Hill is where it all began |