| Well, I could hear it when the river’s crying
|
| And I could see it through the fog
|
| And I could reach into magnetic fields, now
|
| To steal a hammer and a gun
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| For every engine down
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| Yes, I will find a new
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| I’m going over the hills now
|
| I’m going into the blue
|
| And I will tell it to the mighty wind that
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| I have betrayed it once again
|
| And I will listen to the backwards music
|
| With a propeller in my hand
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| For every child in tears
|
| I will throw down a hand
|
| I’m going over the hills now
|
| I’m going over as planned
|
| And every morning I will push a button
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| And bring the sun above our head
|
| And with a smiling face I drew upon it
|
| I will consider it as sin
|
| That every lie I tell
|
| Will arrive like it’s true
|
| I’m going over the hills now
|
| I’m going into the blue
|
| Oh, honey!
|
| And I will hijack every morning railroad
|
| Perhaps I’ll die upon that train
|
| Perhaps I’ll turn the wheel to slide it over
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| Into the long and narrow grade
|
| And I would bounce the moon
|
| On the earth if I could
|
| I’m going over the hills now
|
| I’m going over now for good |