| There’s a boy down the street
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| And he’s wondering what the little girl
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| Living next door can do
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| With her big brown eyes and her golden hair
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| He makes plans with a shaking hand
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| And he wonders if the little girl living next door
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| Will realize he’s alive
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| Living right there
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| And he’s good
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| And he’s sincere
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| And he wants that girl to know that he is near
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| But she don’t
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| And she won’t
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| 'Cause he doesn’t go about it right
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| He doesn’t go about it right
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| There’s a man downtown and he’s looking around
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| At boys and girls with money in their hand
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| And he’ll take it away, yeah, take it away so fast
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| You know what I mean
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| He looks so good with his cane of wood
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| And on his wrist there’s a tight cuff
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| And he’s made a lot of money
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| Just acting like that in the past
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| But he is well
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| And he’s so strong
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| And he doesn’t want the girls and boys to know what’s wrong
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| But they will
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| Yeah, you know they will
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| 'Cause he doesn’t go about it right
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| He doesn’t go about it right
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| Last verse:
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| There’s a dog outside with a lot of pride
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| And he doesn’t seem to want to use that old oak tree
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| In the middle of the park until it’s dark
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| He’d hide his head 'til his tail turns red
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| And he waits for the sun to set
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| So he can lose those troubles on the old oak tree in the park
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| And he waits
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| All alone
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| Babe, and he wants to have a tree that’s all his own
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| But it can’t be
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| told me
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| 'Cause he doesn’t go about it right
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| He doesn’t go about it right
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| He doesn’t go about it right |