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Sparrow and wolf lay as still as the blades of the grass |
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Like worn leather boots, of colour and size that would last |
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Caught them a lark in a trap, and each held a wing |
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Then they tore it apart, before that small bird could sing |
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Confused by the wind, bruised by the size of the rain |
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She turned back him, begged for love to remain |
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But plans have been made, all of the furniture sold |
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So store up your hate, use it for warmth when you're cold |
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For I have seen no joy, only danger, |
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I seen no joy, only strangers, |
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I seen no joy, seen no joy in this world |
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Should you, choose to go, please be careful of, |
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Lonesome roads, men that travel them, |
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Will not know, will not know of your ways |
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Still I have, seen no joy, only dangers, |
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I seen no joy, only strangers, |
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I seen no joy, seen no joy in this world, |
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You should choose to go, please be faithful of |
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What you learned, from that little bird, |
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Always dear, always dear to my heart |