| Above the dark highway, on a black tar roof
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| Stood the sad milkman in love with the moon
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| She filled up his window with soft milky light
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| So he climbed up the chimney and into the night
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| But the moon, she rises
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| And the moon, she falls
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| And her slow white eye
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| Sees nothing at all
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| Down on the sidewalk, a crowd gathered 'round
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| Throwing up bricks and bottles to knock the boy down
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| He stood up above them with his hands in the air
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| Crying up to the moonbeams, come let down your hair
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| But the moon, she rises
|
| And the moon, she falls
|
| And her slow white eye
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| Sees nothing at all
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| He wanted to feel like a bucket of milk
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| Or sweet summer wind on rolling green hills
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| He wanted to fly up from the roof
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| Up through the night wind to the arms of the moon
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| But the moon, she rises
|
| And the moon, she falls
|
| And her slow white eye
|
| Sees nothing at all
|
| But the moon, she rises
|
| And the moon, she falls
|
| And her slow white eye
|
| Sees nothing at all |