The quiet one, the one named Steven
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Listens to the voice of reason
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They miss him at the kitchen
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Where he¡¯s given daily bread
|
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Another one, the one named Harry
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Vegetable or visionary
|
Said he had a dream with Steven
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Flying overhead
|
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He watched him until he lost him in the sun
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He must be having some kind of fun
|
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A thousand miles, a world away
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A woman starts another day
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She drinks her mud and draws a tub
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And waits for it to fill
|
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A box arrives with nothing in it
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Setting off her head a spin
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It goes round and round and round
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Until it all begins to spill
|
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Before she knows another day is done
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She must be having some kind of fun
|
And she says, ¡°Don¡¯t pray for me.¡±
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Some Kind of Fun
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Ass Ponys |