He lives above the First Baptist Church downtown
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in one small furnished room with a cat named Job.
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And Job stares out the window at the people on the ground.
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His chin restin' on the sill, his tail curlin' slow.
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And the old man, well, he's just talking
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as if Job could understand.
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And who knows, maybe, just maybe he can.
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"Oh Job, well, I been thinkin' what it's all about.
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Job, well, I been thinkin' I might have figured somethin' out.
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Sometimes the best that you can do's a stupid smile holdin' up your face
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and it takes everything inside of you to muddle through with some
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small shred of grace.
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Job, it all comes down to some small shred of grace."
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And Magdalena's walkin' down the street to work.
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The old man figures must be half-past five.
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As the seamstress beams a smile at him he always smiles back
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and says, "Job, who needs more reason to be alive?"
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And when the old man reaches out to pet him,
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you know Job don't ever mind.
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After all, the old fool's been a good friend.
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A stroke of luck for a backstreet stray to find.
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"Oh Job, well, I been thinkin' what it's all about.
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Job, well, I been thinkin' I might have figured somethin' out.
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Sometimes the best that you can do's a stupid smile holdin' up your face
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when you.get that funny old familiar fear, afraid you'll disappear
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without a trace.
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Job, I do believe everybody leaves a trace.
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Even if it's just a smile on a stranger's face."
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Job
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Joshua Kadison |