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What's california? |
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With them streams, and their creeks. |
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Running down, down to the sea. |
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Ohoh, let me see. |
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A latex ice age |
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Descended the pint-sized children |
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And fathers of the land |
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Though the ice is repulsive to them |
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When the winter, it bloody clings |
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And the summer, it moves long |
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So, hit the road and hit the wrong |
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Come along: my bait's all right |
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Make one famous, make next sick |
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Upon my collar i'll feel your prick |
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Row the poly with the poly |
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I really need you |
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Because there's HOLEY woods |
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And there's holy creeks |
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And there's love in the limbs |
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And love in the treetops. |
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"they will rise to greet occasions." |
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They will run from the falling apart |
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They will rise from great occasions, |
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And they will run from falling apart. |