| You got no age
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| You got no home
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| You wander everywhere
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| And ramble roaming always going
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| Always growing
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| You own nothing and have no name
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| What little change you have to go to
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| Changing your own mind
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| All the time
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| But they got no need for folky jokesters
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| Broken barely, paying off their dues
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| And the Holy Roller rolls away
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| The blues down to the holes inside his shoes
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| And in his soles
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| He’s a holy roller rock and roller partly hobo man
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| Got a beard so long goes on and on gets drowned in his tin can
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| And he dance all right, and he’s still putting up a fight
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| When he drinks all night
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| He’s a holy roller rock and roller partly hobo man
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| Got a beard so long goes on and on gets drowned in his tin can
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| And he’ll steal your pen, and he’ll still wanna be your friend
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| Till the very end
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| Ooooh oh man, Ooooh oh man
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| He sings hobo songs
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| And he looks just like a leprechaun
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| And you don’t know what he’s on
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| He’s a holy roller rock and roller partly hobo man
|
| Got a beard so long goes on and on gets drowned in his tin can
|
| He’s a holy roller rock and roller partly hobo man
|
| Got a beard so long goes on and on gets drowned in his tin can
|
| He’s a holy roller rock and roller partly hobo man
|
| Got a beard so long goes on and on gets drowned in his tin can
|
| Oooooh oh man, Ooooh oh man |