| Jonah went down to the docks to flee from the wrath of the Lord
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| But the mark on his forehead was visible to everybody on board
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| They threw him down into the water but he did not drown
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| I’m on a balcony in Mobile, Alabama, waiting for the wind to throw me down
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| Now the Lord told the great fish, be free of your burden
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| And Jonah emerged from his darkness like a dancer crashing through the curtain
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| And the plant grew but it withered and it shriveled up and turned brown
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| I’m on a balcony in Mobile, Alabama, waiting for the wind to throw me down
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| Lord, if you won’t keep me safe and warm
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| Then send down the storm
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| Send down the storm
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| Jonah was sure he heard voices, maybe just one voice but real clear
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| And where he went, the voice followed, sometimes hardly loud enough to hear
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| «Shall I not spare the wise with the wicked? |
| Hold back my wrath from this town?»
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| I’m on a balcony in Mobile, Alabama, waiting for the wind to throw me down
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| May I address the foreman of the jury?
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| Why do you hold back your fury?
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| Don’t hold back your fury |