Three mules came over a hill
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They were dragging a cart
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Creaking, it seemed to be falling apart
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Laden with millions of dreams
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It weighed more than they thought
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They never noticed the wheels getting caught
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They pulled on, staring ahead
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With blinkered eyes and lowered heads
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Hoping that all would be fine
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I see them now
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Time out of time
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Ramsey and Stanley and Neville
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Were the names of the mules
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Each wore a bridle encrusted with jewels
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And though a murmur of voices
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Was rising behind
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Each laboured on
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And they paid it no mind
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They pulled on with never a doubt
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Past boulders and holes
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Till the road petered out
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And giving a snort they sat down
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Waiting for somebody else to come round
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And from this are our lives writ large
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From the beach at Dunkirk
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To Pickett's Charge
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And it's hard to go back
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after coming this far
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Down the road
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Three mules looked over a fence
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At the field beyond
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Green as a forest it shone in the sun
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Into the stillness they broke
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Like a stone in a pond
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And kicking the gate down
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They brayed at the ground
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And pulled on tugging a dream
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Out of a smile and into a scream
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And tossed the damp soil all around
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Until the whole field turned muddy brown
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And from this are our lives writ large
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From the beach at Dunkirk
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To Pickett's Charge
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And it's hard to go back
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after coming this far
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Down the road
|
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Ah, but it's not very easy now being a mule
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I don't believe you appreciate all that we do
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Look at this long and unfortunate face
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Try to imagine that you're in my place
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This is my nature
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And to it I have to be true
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Three mules came over a hill
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With a sorrowful air
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Though we've been judged, they said
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It's hardly fair
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All that we did was for you
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And the good of the cause
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Then they went back to the sound of applause
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They went back into the night
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Where a sickle of moon
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Left a trickle of light
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And while we lay under our roofs
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The whole night filled up
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With the beating of hooves
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And from this are our lives writ large
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From the beach at Dunkirk
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To Pickett's Charge
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And it's hard to go back
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after coming this far
|
Down the road
|
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And from this are our lives writ large
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And every day
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Is Pickett's Charge
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And it's hard to go back
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after coming this far
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Down the road
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Three Mules
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Al Stewart |