I¡¯m on a boogie woogie
|
Signs of lonesome
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When memory it happens ever swell
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Don¡¯t know how to do with his closing gasp
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I¡¯m looking for the heartfelt hotel
|
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Walking down through the cold ranch
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Broke down, bothered and barest
|
I never cried
|
Over couple geese that passed
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Singing hymns to what is left
|
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The walls of my small fortress
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Have fallen
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The willingness is of us
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Than my home
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And if I sing to the lad which is calling
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For the place where it snow when I¡¯m alone
|
¡®
|
Walking down through the cold ranch
|
Broke down, bothered and barest
|
I never cried
|
Over the geese that passed
|
Singing hymns to what is left
|
|
-----------------
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Hymns To What Is Left
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Greg Brown |