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A boy is born in hard time Mississippi |
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Surrounded by four walls that ain't so pretty |
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His parents give him love and affection |
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To keep him strong moving in the right direction |
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Living just enough, just enough for the city...ee ha! |
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His father works some days for fourteen hours |
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And you can bet he barely makes a dollar |
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His mother goes to scrub the floors for many |
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And you'd best believe she hardly gets a penny |
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Living just enough, just enough for the city... yeah! |
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His hair is long, his feet are hard and gritty |
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He spends his life walking the streets of New York City |
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He's almost dead from breathing in air pollution |
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He tried to vote but to him there's no solution |
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Living just enough, just enough for the city... |
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I hope you hear inside my voice of sorrow |
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And that it motivates you to make a better tomorrow |
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This place is cruel no where could be much colder |
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If we don't change the world will soon be over |
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Living just enough... |
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For the city... ooh, ooh |