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Sitting on the swing |
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Trying to relate to just anything |
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Wonder where it's at |
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Conversations of where it's at |
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Ooh yeah |
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Ohh yeah |
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People come and stare |
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Wondering who's really there |
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He smiles and says, |
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"I could've been one of them" |
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Oh Eddie, Eddie |
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He was something different |
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Oh well he never hurt no one |
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And I wonder if his father said |
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"Oh god, he's not my son" |
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And "Oh God, he's not my son" |
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Oh Eddie |
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He was all alone |
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Walked the streets |
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No place to call home |
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Fingers to his head |
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No one put him to his death |
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Oh Eddie |
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He was something different |
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But he never hurt no one |
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And I wonder if his father said |
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"Oh God, he's not my son" |
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And "Oh God, he's not my son" |
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Yeah, tell me something about him |
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'Cause music's his only prayer |
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He was something different |
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But he never hurt no one |
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And I wonder if his father said |
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"Oh God, he's not my son" |
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Oh now Eddie |
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Oh Eddie |
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Oh Eddie |
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Oh now Eddie |
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No Eddie you're not my son |
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No Eddie you're not my son |
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No Eddie you're not my son |
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No Eddie you're not my son |
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No Eddie you're not my son |