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Moves like a fist through the traffic |
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Anger and no one can heal it |
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Shoves a little bump into the momentum |
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It's just a little lump |
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But you feel it |
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In the creases and the shadows |
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With a rattling deep emotion |
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The cool, cool river |
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Sweeps the wild, white ocean |
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Yes Boss. The government handshake |
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Yes Boss. The crusher of language |
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Yes Boss. Mr. Stillwater, |
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The face at the edge of the banquet |
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The cool, the cool river |
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The cool, the cool river |
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I believe in the future |
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I may live in my car |
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My radio tuned to |
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The voice of a star |
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Song dogs barking at the break of dawn |
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Lightning pushes the edge of a thunderstorm |
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And these old hopes and fears |
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Still at my side |
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Anger and no one can heal it |
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Slides through the metal detector |
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Lives like a mole in a motel |
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A slide in a slide projector |
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The cool, cool river |
|
Sweeps the wild, white ocean |
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The rage of love turns inward |
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To prayers of devotion |
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And these prayers are |
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The constant road across the wilderness |
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These prayers are |
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These prayers are the memory of God |
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The memory of God |
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And I believe in the future |
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We shall suffer no more |
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Maybe not in my lifetime |
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But in yours I feel sure |
|
Song dogs barking at the break of dawn |
|
Lightning pushes the edges of a thunderstorm |
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And these streets |
|
Quiet as a sleeping army |
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Send their battered dreams to heaven, to heaven |
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For the mother's restless son |
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Who is a witness to, who is a warrior |
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Who denies his urge to break and run |
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Who says: Hard times? |
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I'm used to them |
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The speeding planet burns |
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I'm used to that |
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My life's so common it disappears |
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And sometimes even music |
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Cannot substitute for tears |