| A late April day and it’s sunny outside
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| And a red little girl’s at the top of a slide
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| And an orange old man at the bottom
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| Wants to take her for a ride
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| As she slips and she tumbles the orange man mumbles
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| Pennies crash down from the sky
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| And he tells her he’ll take her away where it’s safe
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| And of course it is a lie
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| She’s a third the down and her skirts are yanked up
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| And her little girl cheeks start to wrinkle
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| But her smile is wide and her legs are spread wider
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| Her hair growing long and her hips getting larger
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| Past getting brighter
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| Light growing weaker
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| She is halfway down now but the man is impatient
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| Shakes change in his pocket he might have to wait but she’s coming
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| She’s coming
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| Who are you blaming?
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| They’re just playing!
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| That’s a good one
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| Who left the playground
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| A good decade before the bell rang?
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| As she starts to draw nearer the view becomes clearer
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| The splinters are painful but she doesn’t feel it
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| The pennies were loaded and as they exploded
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| She starts to spin out of control
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| Her eyes are now closing her sleeves are unrolling
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| Up past her head and her veins are all showing
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| Not that she noticed she’s thoroughly focused on
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| One old man who’s laughing
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| Who’s laughing
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| Don’t worry
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| I’ve got you
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| Don’t worry
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| I’ve got you
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| The orange man’s got you
|
| A late April day and it’s sunny outside
|
| And a red little girl’s at the top of a slide
|
| And an an orange old man at the bottom
|
| Wants to take her for a ride |