| He turned thirty-five last Sunday
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| In his hair he found some gray
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| But he still ain’t changed his lifestyle
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| He likes it better the old way
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| So he grows a little garden in the back yard by the fence
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| He’s consuming what he’s growing nowadays in self defense
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| He get’s out there in the twilight zone
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| Sometimes when it just don’t make no sense
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| He gets off on country music
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| Cause disco left him cold
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| He’s got young friends into new wave
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| But he’s just too friggin' old
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| And he dreams at night of Woodstock and the day John Lennon died
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| How the music made him happy and the silence made him cry
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| Yeah he thinks of John sometimes
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| And he has to wonder why
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| Chorus:
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| He’s an old hippie and he don’t know what to do Should he hang on to the old
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| Should he grab on to the new
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| He’s an old hippie… his new life is just a bust
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| He ain’t trying to change nobody
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| He’s just trying real hard to adjust
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| He was sure back in the sixties that everyone was hip
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| Then they sent him off to Vietnam on his senior trip
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| And they forced him to become a man while he was still a boy
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| And in each wave of tragedy he waited for the joy
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| Now this world may change around him
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| But he just can’t change no more
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| Chorus
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| Well, he stays away a lot now from the parties and the clubs
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| And he’s thinking while he’s joggin' 'round
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| Sure is glad he quit the hard drugs
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| Cause him and his kind get more endangered everyday
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| And pretty soon the species will just up and fade away
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| Like the smoke from that torpedo… just up and fade away
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| Chorus |