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Where's the tattooed muscle men |
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with furled brows a-pullin'? |
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Where's the buxom fashion queen |
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with thin-aired curls a-curlin'? |
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Where's the angry nomad minstrel |
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growlin' out a lullaby? |
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Where's the edgy circus folk? |
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Or have they said goodbye? |
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Where's the soiled and rusty builders |
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welding iron sculptures? |
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Where's the clockwork fellow-beaters |
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circled in like vultures? |
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Where's the darkened cabaret |
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filled with new nostalgics? |
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Where has everything I loved gone? |
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Oh, the loss is tragic! |
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All alone in a crowd |
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With strangers who all know me |
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And I try to be friends |
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But there's no one here who chose me |
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Should I run? |
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Should I hide? |
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Should I change my life completely? |
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Should I hold me inside? |
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Or keep my anger hid discreetly? |
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Where's the crazy fire folk |
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spinning warmth a-blazin'? |
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Where's the muscled aerialist |
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in the sky amazing? |
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Where's the dreadlocked cowboy |
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head-to-toe in ancient leather? |
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Where's the pretty painted ladies |
|
behind their fans of feathers? |
|
All alone in a crowd |
|
With strangers who all know me |
|
And I try to be friends |
|
But there's no one here who chose me |
|
Should I run? |
|
Should I hide? |
|
Should I change my life completely? |
|
Should I hold me inside? |
|
Or keep my anger hid discreetly? |
|
Where's the slender flapper girls |
|
in silken gowns and pearls? |
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Where's the threadbare waltzers |
|
paintin' the floors in curls? |
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Where's my life-confirming friends |
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or did I ever have them? |
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Where's the brazen, angry artists? |
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Tell me what replaced them! |
|
All alone in a crowd |
|
With strangers who all know me |
|
And I try to be friends |
|
But there's no one here who chose me |
|
Should I run? |
|
Should I hide? |
|
Should I change my life completely? |
|
Should I hold me inside? |
|
Or keep my anger hid discreetly? |