| I spy with my little eye
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| The sun shining brightly
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| The clouds rolling by
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| The last days of winter
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| Now seem so far away
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| And everything looks green
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| When it used to be grey
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| And I’ve watched the change
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| Like the changing in my mind
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| And I chased the leaves
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| Like the words I never find
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| Like the people I knew
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| Who I sometimes see today
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| Some still bright like fire
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| And some faded away
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| I turn on the radio
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| And someone’s playing a song
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| I turn on the news
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| Hear what’s going on
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| I turn on my back
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| When I’m full of beer
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| And I turn off the news
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| When I don’t want to hear
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| And I’ve seen a girl who looks so very sad
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| Nothing left but a memory of all the times she’s had
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| And I’ve seen a man who looks so sad inside
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| Nothing left but the memories from which he cannot hide
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| So I learned to fight
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| With a Weapon Called The Word
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| And I learned to rise my voice
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| So that I’d be heard
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| And I learned to fight
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| With a weapon called the word
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| And I learned to raise my voice
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| But I’ve never been heard |