A tree grows in my back yard, it only grows at night.
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Its branches they're all twisted, its leaves are afraid of light.
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They say the blues is just a bad dream, they say it lives upside your head.
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But when it's lonely in the morning, you're bound to wish that you was lying dead.
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There's winds out on the ocean, they're blowing just as they choose.
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But then winds ain't got no emotion, baby, they don't know the blues.
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They say the blues is just a bad dream, they say it lives upside your head, mmmm.
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But when it's lone, lonely in the morning you're bound to wish that you was lying dead.
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My mind is rambling and rambling just like some rolling stone, no,
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since that nightmare's come to stay with me, baby, my thoughts just don't belong.
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They say the blues is just a bad dream, they say it lives upside your head.
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But when they visit you around midnight, you're bound to wish that you were lying dead.
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The Blues Is Just A Bad Dream
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James Taylor |