You raise up your head
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And you ask is this where it is?
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And somebody points to you and says
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"It's his"
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And you say "What's mine?"
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Somebody else says "Where what is?"
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And you say, "Oh my God, am I here all alone?"
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And you know something's happening,
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But you don't know what it is
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Do you, Mister Jones?
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You hand in your ticket
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Then you go watch the keep
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Who immediately walks up to you
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When he hears you speak
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And says, "How does it feel to be such a freak?"
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You say, "Impossible"
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As he hands you a bone
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And you know something's happening here
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But you don't know what it is
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Do you, Mister Jones?
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Are you have many contacts
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Among the lumberjacks
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Do you get fax
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When someone attacks your imagination
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But nobody has any respect
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Anyway, they already expect you
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To all give a check
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To tax-deductible charity organizations, oh yeah
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Well, you walk into the room
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Like a camel and then you frown
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You put your eyes in your pocket
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And your nose on the ground
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There ought to be a law
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Against you comin' around
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You should be made to wear earphones
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And you know something's happening here
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But you don't know what it is
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Do you, Mister Jones? x2
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-----------------
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Mr. Jones
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Grass Roots |