| He sat down with his guitar in a distant place
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| When a man walks up and tells him
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| «Buddy there are some things you cannot say»
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| I’ll be damned if you’ll tell me
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| What I can and cannot feel
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| I won’t be no puppet here none of your back room deals
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| Modern love was invented by the minstrels in the dark ages
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| Where they used to hunt them down from town to town
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| Man what deck are we dealing from here
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| When a girl walks up and says
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| «You got something we’ve got to hear»
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| Brave and crazy… brave on
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| Brave and crazy… brave on
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| Along the boardwalk of this burned out tourist town
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| The ghosts of another day stalk the barren beaches
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| Where all come to hide from the rattling of the sounds
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| Of skeletons in the closet
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| Hoping nothing brings them down
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| She says «I have lived nearly all my life»
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| «I scare them to death because I say what I like»
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| Brave and crazy… brave on
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| Brave and crazy… brave on
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| There’s a war here between freedom and the hypocrites
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| Who will try on all disguises just to see what fits
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| Truth is the one thing to live love and die for
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| The rooftops of the world
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| Brave on…
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| He packs his car and picks a course upon a map
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| Maybe east of eden or maybe farther west than all of that
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| Writes down everything he’s seen, everything that he feels
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| Then rips it up it doesn’t say enough then throws it is a passing field
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| Brave and crazy… brave on |