If up¡¯s the word and the world grows greener,
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Minute by second and most by more.
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If death is the loser and life is the winner,
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And beggars are rich, but minstrels are poor.
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Let¡¯s touch the sky,
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With a to and a fro and a hit there, where
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And away we go.
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And even the laziest creature among us
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A wisdom no knowledge can kill is astray.
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Now dull eyes are keen and now keen eyes are keener.
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For young is the year, for young is the year.
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Let¡¯s touch the sky,
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With a great and a gay and this deep, deep rush
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Through amazing time.
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It¡¯s brains without hearts have set saint against the sinner
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But the gain over gladness and joy and no care.
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Let¡¯s do as an Earth which can never do wrong, does
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Minute by second and most by more.
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Let¡¯s touch the sky,
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With a strange and a true and a climbing for
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And to far near blue.
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If beggars are rich and the robin will sing
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He¡¯s robbing the song, but minstrels are poor.
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Let¡¯s love until no one could quite be
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An young as the year is
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As living as I¡¯m and as you.
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Let¡¯s touch the sky,
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With a you and a me and an every who¡¯s any,
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Who¡¯s someone, who¡¯s who.
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If up's the word
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Tin Hat |