What's there to live for?
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Who needs the peace corps?
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Think I'll just DROP OUT
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I'll go to Frisco
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Buy a wig & sleep
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On Owsley's floor
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Walked past the wig store
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Danced at the Fillmore
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I'm completely stoned
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I'm hippy & I'm trippy
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I'm a gypsy on my own
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I'll stay a week & get the crabs &
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Take a bus back home
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I'm really just a phony
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But forgive me
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'Cause I'm stoned
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Every town must have a place
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Where phony hippies meet
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Psychedelic dungeons
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Popping up on every street
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GO TO SAN FRANCISCO . . .
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How I love ya, How I love ya
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How I love ya, How I love ya Frisco!
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How I love ya, How I love ya
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How I love ya, How I love ya
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Oh, my hair is getting good in the back!
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Every town must have a place
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Where phony hippies meet
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Psychedelic dungeons
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Popping up on every street
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GO TO SAN FRANCISCO . . .
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Hotcha!
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First I'll buy some beads
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And then perhaps a leather band
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To go around my head
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Some feathers and bells
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And a book of Indian lore
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I will ask the Chamber Of Commerce
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How to get to Haight Street
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And smoke an awful lot of dope
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I will wander around barefoot
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I will have a psychedelic gleam in my eye at all times
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I will love everyone
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I will love the police as they kick the shit out of me on the street
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I will sleep . . .
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I will, I will go to a house
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That's, that's what I will do
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I will go to a house
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Where there's a rock & roll band
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'Cause the groups all live together
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And I will join a rock & roll band
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I will be their road manager
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And I will stay there with them
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And I will get the crabs
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But I won't care
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Because . . .
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-----------------
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Who Needs The Peace Corps?
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The Mothers Of Invention |