I slip back down where we found
|
A meter milling maze,
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And the rest that we find sound.
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Will it find us on the bottom?
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Will we find our way?
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Will we fall apart useless machining the made?
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Find that sleep that we've lost.
|
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Fair and tired living,
|
Lives like little lifted leans.
|
Shaking heads under the shade
|
Of them bright, bright, bright sweet pear trees.
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Mine is gone with the day,
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Never miss a beat, never find a home.
|
Mine is gone with all time, all time.
|
|
Mother, father, brother, sister, son, daughters,
|
We are the rabbit that let the fox lead us.
|
Out in the sun with the cold war fever,
|
Don't need to beg for your money, just please don't eat us,
|
|
Deaf like the big guns foaming,
|
At the mouth, they're gnashing,
|
Quiet like our words that roam and roll about.
|
Let's march a train of thought to crack the boads,
|
Then we'll find that sleep we lost, we lost.
|
|
Then we'll find that sleep we lost, we lost.
|
Then we'll find that sleep we lost, we lost.
|
Then we'll find that sleep we lost, we lost.
|
Then we'll find that sleep we lost, we lost.
|
Then we'll find that sleep we lost, we lost.
|
Then we'll find that sleep we lost, we lost.
|
Then we'll find that sleep we lost, we lost.
|
Then we'll find that sleep we lost, we lost.
|
|
-----------------
|
New Orleans
|
Portugal. The Man |