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(difford/tilbrook) |
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When the little king |
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Rode on his horse |
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Into the darkened wood |
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No one believed |
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That he'd return |
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They thought he'd gone for good |
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As he looked down to see the lake |
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He found a secret key |
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The little king he couldn't wait |
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And he rode off nervously |
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In a stolen car |
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On busy streets |
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He spun the leather wheel |
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He was burning oil |
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In second gear |
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As the tyres loudly squealed |
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And the bouncers on the kerb |
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Jumped right out of the way |
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He smashed into a superstore |
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And he didn't feel a thing |
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Just a quiet night where the fun begins |
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For the little king |
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Once life was merry going round |
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Then time began to rub |
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The future looked as clear as day |
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But it quickly turned to mud |
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It stuck to him like glue |
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What can anybody do |
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For the little king |
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For the little king |
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Now the little king |
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Is locked away |
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To mix with the elite |
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In the doghouse now |
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He learns new tricks |
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From other pedigrees |
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It's small town front page news |
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The fairy tale your king |
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Has scratched his head looking for clues |
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He found splinters there |
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But one day soon the latch will swing |
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For the little king |