This is the voice of someone
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Calling from a lonely hill
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To the hard of hearing
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For those who never will
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A long legged someone
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Seen walking away from home
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Look a vacant dreamer
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Walking alone alone
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Ways that turn and turn
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Which is what we'd learn
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As suffering believers
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In the book of badgeman brown
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They've dropping like flies
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In a suburban house
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From a lack of anything
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Anything to keep their hands in
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And the town keeps screaming
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From a lonely hill
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Another lack of people
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Those who never will
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Ways that turn and turn
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Which I what we'd learn
|
As suffering believers
|
In the book of badgeman brown
|
|
This is the voice of someone
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Calling from a lonely hill
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for the heard of hearing
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For those who never will
|
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The days will turn and turn
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Which is what we'd learn
|
As average believers
|
In the book of badgeman brown
|
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Badgeman Brown
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