| There was a time when they were good friends
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| Then they got paid and they got old and they let it end
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| The police lost track of who was holding who up
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| Got stuck in the mud, then they lost the whole truck
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| You could say they got bad luck and that’s saying enough
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| So long if you’re sailing on
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| Pack your things and get on your way
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| When you feel you don’t belong, play a friendly song
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| Then at least you’ll have a little something to sing
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| It’s hard to be a duo, it’s hard to be a trio
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| It’s even harder to be a quartet
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| I’m told that going alone
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| Is just about as hard as it gets
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| All the little baby girls and the dig beating boys
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| Just staring up at the sky
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| Hands full without a care in the world
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| No reason to ask why
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| There’s a meter for this or a measure for that
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| You could repaint the view in only white and black
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| But once you make that mark
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| There’s no taking it back, you see
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| As you build a new life you tear the old one down
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| And the past could chase you from city to town
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| You could talk like my eagles about what goes down
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| Or you could sing
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| If it feels good, let it feel good to you
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| If it feels good, let it feel good to you
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| If it feels good, just let it feel good to you
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| If it feels good, let it feel good to you
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| So it’s so long, you’re sailing on
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| Pack your things and get on your way
|
| If you feel you don’t belong play a friendly song
|
| Then at least you’ll have a little something to sing
|
| And if it feels good, let it feel good to you
|
| If it feels good, let it feel good to you
|
| If it feels good, just let it feel good to you
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| If it feels good, let it feel good to you |