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La la la aaaa |
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In a house |
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on an island |
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there's a tale that must be told |
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of our mysterious Misty Mountains |
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behind all the songs I wrote |
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lives an old man in his shadow |
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and they're whistling day and night |
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for whatever whatever its worth for |
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they are whistling for you and I |
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On a ranch in the wildness |
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there's a song that must be sung |
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about a blindfolded angel |
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who never learned the right from wrong |
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and though I don't know enough English |
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to describe it's troubled mind |
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but for one thing I am certain |
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is that it sings for you and I |
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And I tried so hard to figuring out |
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but I guess I'm only human |
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I've been watching him drawing him |
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analysing him in every way |
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I could possible think of |
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but does not really help me |
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you got to sit back and enjoy |
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you know Ochrasy raised and betrayed him |
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now he sits there all alone |
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with his soul and his legend and his epic melodies |
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they are with us when we crying |
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and they are with us when we bleed |
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Yes they are with us when we crying |
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and they are with us when we bleed |