| She’s far away — she will stay
|
| Through the darkest seasons
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| Feeling lost, feeling frost
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| Leafing through her reasons
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| She will go to Woodstock
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| She will hitch a ride
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| Army surplus knapsack
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| With some paperbacks inside
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| But 'til then she’s far away
|
| She’s at her granny’s house in Kansas
|
| Watching for tornados in the sky
|
| She’s far away — she will play
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| On her cousin’s cello
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| She’ll escape, she will scrape
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| Parts of Mellow Yellow
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| She will find the music
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| Deep inside the wood
|
| Lying down beside it
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| And devouring it for food
|
| But 'til then she’s far away
|
| She’s at her granny’s house in Kansas
|
| Watching for tornados in the sky
|
| She’s far away — every day
|
| She will walk for hours
|
| Writing songs, righting wrongs
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| And renaming flowers
|
| She will see the windstorm
|
| Willing it to blow
|
| Knowing in the instant
|
| When the time has come to go
|
| But 'til then she’s far away
|
| She’s at her granny’s house in Kansas
|
| Watching for tornados in the sky |