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I guess it's way too late for half-assed sympathy |
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Or to ask if there is anything you need from me |
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That neglected Mississippi bridge is crumbling |
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And I'm stuck in Missouri squinting to see Illinois |
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So I'm on the banks just trying |
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To get my message through |
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But my waves and jumps |
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Will clearly be no help to you |
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And any sacrifice is worthless, that's another truth |
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A mile-long current separates the man from the boy |
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So leave, put away your telescope |
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Or at least point it upwards to the sky |
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The close-ups of my face have to be getting old |
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And the sun will turn to stars in a little while |
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The gasoline may be cheaper |
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And the fireworks stands linger |
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It's getting dark and I know that you can't swim |
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But there's nothing here worth crossing for |
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Even if you could |
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So leave, put away your telescope |
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Or at least point it upwards to the sky |
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The close-ups of my face have to be getting old |
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And the sun will turn to stars in a little while |
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So leave, pack up your riverboat |
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Be thankful that you have something that's still afloat |
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Maybe take the muddy back towards Murphysboro |
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The sun will turn to stars in a little while |