Ricky's been kicking the gong, lickity-split, didn't take too long.
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A junkie's sick, a monkey's strong, that's what's wrong.
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Well, I guess he's been messing around downtown, so sad to see the man losing ground.
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Winding down behind closed doors on all fours.
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Mama, don't you call him my name, he can't hear you anymore.
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Even if he seems the same to you, that's a stranger to your door.
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Go on, ask him what's he come here for.
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Oh my God, a monkey can move a man. Send him to hell and home again.
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An empty hand in the afternoon, shooting for the moon.
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It's halfway sick and it's halfway stoned. He'd sure like to kick but he's too far gone.
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They wind him down with the methadone, he's all on his own.
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But baby, don't you throw your love away, I hate to seem unkind.
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It's only that I understand the man that the monkey can leave behind,
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I used to think he was a friend of mine.
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Oh, La la la la la la la la, oh, la la la la la la la la. La la la, la la la, la la la la.
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-----------------
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A Junkie's Lament
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James Taylor |