| City life is closing in on me
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| The way things go, thirty years
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| Bus timetable’ll be my elergy
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| Up at seven every working day
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| Pay comes in, pay goes out
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| It’s a week-by-week charade
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| General panic in the marketplace
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| Boss found hung in office
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| Could not stand the pace
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| And as the peak-hour traffic jams below
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| Someone gets the story, somebody spread the rumour
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| People come and go
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| You go to move
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| You got to go
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| You go to be somebody
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| You got to roll
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| You got to stop
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| You got to change
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| You got to make a little money
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| And be a little strange
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| Wandered down along the river last night
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| Call me romantic, I say I couldn’t sleep
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| Until the first-light struck me down
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| Padding homeward on the inside lane
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| Early morning, freeway’s cool and quiet
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| Dodging rubber stains
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| People talking in a seaside bar
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| I ain’t sentimental, but Lord
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| Sometimes I get that gypsy urge to travel far
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| You know I’ll disappear some long weekend
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| Find a mangrove landscape
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| Stretch out along some busted jetty
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| And forget who I am
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| You go to move
|
| You got to go
|
| You go to be somebody
|
| You got to roll
|
| You got to stop
|
| You got to change
|
| You got to make a little money
|
| And be a little strange
|
| And one long day
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| Is all it takes to steal her heart away
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| One long night
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| And it’s allright, you’ve done it again
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| Soft, low words
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| And slender ladies, beneath the cafe fans
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| One long day
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| Layed by dreams
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| Cotton dresses, a Spanish border town
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| Dreams so far
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| From the subway, the crowds heading home
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| Close each day
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| In technicolor, a million miles away
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| One long night and you’re alone
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| Meanwhile
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| City ways
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| Life goes creeping on
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| Sometimes
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| I get the blues |