| Well, I’ll tell you a story
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| Of whiskey and mystics and men,
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| And about the believers and
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| How the whole thing began.
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| First there were women and
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| Children obeying the moon,
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| Then daylight brought wisdom
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| And fever and sickness too soon.
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| You can try to remind me Instead of the other, you can.
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| You can help to insure
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| That we all insecure our command.
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| If you don’t give a listen,
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| I won’t try to tell your new hand.
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| This is it; |
| can’t you see
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| That we all have our ends in the band.
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| And if all of the teachers and
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| Preachers of wealth were arraigned,
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| We could see quite a future
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| For me in the literal sands.
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| And if all the people
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| Could claime to inspect such regrets,
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| Well, we’d have no forgiveness,
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| Forgetfullness, faithful remorse.
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| So I tell you, I tell you,
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| I tell you we must send away.
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| We must try to find a New answer instead of a way. |