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On our street a dirty scene |
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I know you feel like we can go inside |
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We can talk in private here |
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Tell me now of how things used to be |
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But I'm not crazy I'm just a little boy |
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And you're not crazy you're just a little girl |
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We can find an old boxcar |
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In the woods to make our home |
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We can make a broom of weeds |
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And brush and sweep (all the) daddies away |
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If we went back to being small |
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We could find a place and raise ourselves |
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You'd be ill with so much guilt |
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But we'd pretend that they got better now |
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But I'm not crazy I'm just a little boy |
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And you're not crazy you're just a little girl |
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We can find an old boxcar |
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In the woods to make our home |
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Make a bed of maple leaves |
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Sleep with vines on the door |
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On the sill what we need |
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Keep our milk in the stream |
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We can make a broom of weeds |
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And brush and sweep (all the) daddies away |