(Fisher / Reid)
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I sat me down to write a simple story
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which maybe in the end became a song
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In trying to find the words which might begin it
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I found these were the thoughts I brought along
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At first I took my weight to be an anchor
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and gathered up my fears to guide me round
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but then I clearly saw my own delusion
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and found my struggles further bogged me down
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In starting out I thought to go exploring
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and set my foot upon the nearest road
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In vain I looked to find the promised turning
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but only saw how far I was from home
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In searching I forsook the paths of learning
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and sought instead to find some pirate's gold
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In fighting I did hurt those dearest to me
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and still no hidden truths could I unfold
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I sat me down to write a simple story
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which maybe in the end became a song
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The words have all been writ by one before me
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We're taking turns in trying to pass them on
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Oh, we're taking turns in trying to pass them on
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Pilgrims Progress
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Procol Harum |