| Noone can forget the place where she has gone away
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| Funny how regret can taste like honey in L.A. anyway
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| All the trees ornamental
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| Every breeze downright sentimental
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| No one can forget her face when she has gone away
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| Let a bungalow and yard fulfill your every need
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| Get a Romeo and garden all but gone to seed as they say
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| Every swallow returning
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| Just to follow a natural yearning
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| It is just a paper chase when she has gone away
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| What the heck I’ve hit the deck and checked romance on holiday
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| Drawn a breath and danced with death
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| Until the dawn had held it at bay
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| Watched the palms by the sea sway
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| In the arms of beautiful Nissei
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| Now I can’t forget her face since she has gone away
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| Manzanar not the kind of girl to hit the street
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| Manzanar she is dancin to a brand new beat
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| Don’t know me from Ansel Adams 'cause I’m from Los Angeles
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| Would’ve called her but was at a loss
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| For what to say just to please
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| When it gets right down there to the wire
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| When you’re reeling and feel her desire
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| Tell her she is All-American in Japanese
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| This is a dump without a doubt
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| You gotta jump you wanna shout
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| And it is sump thin you got out
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| Manzanar
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| You are not warm a desert storm
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| And where the High Sierra hits the flyway
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| You are alone you will explode
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| To Arizone you hit the road
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| Next sound you hear is pounding down the highway
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| Like a man without a nation
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| In a camp of concentration
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| With a stamp of degredation and shame
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| To a place they call it Manzanar by name
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| You are awake an evening star
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| All you can take is makin out just where you are
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| There’s a name to explore there
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| And a story of shame and war there
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| In Manzanar in Manzanar
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| Manzanar! |