I live in the dead centre of town
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Where every landlorn sailor comes to drown
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Where great ideas extinguish without sound
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And all my fickle friends have gone to ground
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So they will not come round...
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And you ask me what the problem is
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I say it's obvious
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And I'm not lying
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I live in the dead centre of town
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With one foot in the grave and one underground
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Where clocks don't go no matter how they're wound
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Boredom's king, unhappiness abounds
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And you ask me what the problem is
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I say it's obvious
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And I'm not lying
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Our town is dying
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I live in the dead centre of here
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Where daughters treat their daddies like King Lear
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Who says "death's a good career prospect, dear"
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Where sinners burn in hell for half a beer
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And you ask me what the problem is
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I say it's obvious
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And I'm not lying
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Our town is dying
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|
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I live at the town centre of death
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Where even time is running out of breath
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She crawls past gasping "how much have we got left?"
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**********
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|
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I'll tell you
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What the problem is
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It's oh so obvious
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And I'm not lying
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Our town is dying
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Dead Centre of Town
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| John Wesley Harding |