| I wanna tell you about Texas Radio and the Big Beat
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| Comes out of the Virginia swamps
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| Cool and slow with money and precision
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| With a back beat narrow and hard to master
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| Some call it heavenly in its brilliance
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| Others, mean and rueful of the Western dream
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| I love the friends I have gathered together on this thin raft
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| We have constructed pyramids in honor of our escaping
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| This is the land where the Pharaoh died
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| The Negroes in the forest brightly feathered
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| They are saying, «Forget the night —
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| Live with us in forests of azure
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| Out here in the perimeter there are no stars
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| Out here we is stoned, immaculate»
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| Now listen to this, I’ll tell you about the heartache
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| I’ll tell you about the heartache and the loss of God
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| I’ll tell you about the hopeless night
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| The meager food for souls forgot
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| I’ll tell you about the maiden with wrought-iron soul
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| I’ll tell you this
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| No eternal reward will forgive us now for wasting the dawn
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| I’ll tell you 'bout Texas Radio and the Big Beat
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| Soft driven, slow and mad, like some new language
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| Now, listen to this, I’ll tell you about Texas
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| I’ll tell you 'bout Texas Radio
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| I’ll tell you 'bout the hopeless night
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| Wand’rin' in the Western dream
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| Tell you 'bout the maiden with wrought-iron soul |