|
Answer
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Brown
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paper
|
|
bag,
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don't
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stop
|
|
me
|
|
now,
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|
I'm
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on
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|
a
|
|
roll
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Plain
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brown
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wrapper
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in
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your
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|
pocket
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Is
|
|
it
|
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still
|
|
the
|
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invisible
|
|
man
|
|
you're
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consorting
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with,
|
|
woman?
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Now
|
|
that
|
|
you
|
|
got
|
|
it
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|
all
|
|
wrong
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|
You
|
|
got
|
|
it
|
|
all
|
|
backwards,
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girl
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Enter
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through
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the
|
|
exit,
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and
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exit
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through
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the
|
|
entrance
|
|
when
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|
you
|
|
can
|
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Seen
|
|
you
|
|
consort
|
|
with
|
|
your
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invisible
|
|
manhole
|
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Fool
|
|
child,
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you're
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never
|
|
gonna
|
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make
|
|
it
|
|
New
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York
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City
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just
|
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wants
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to
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see
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you
|
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naked,
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and
|
|
they
|
|
will
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|
Though
|
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they'd
|
|
never
|
|
say
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so
|
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Wise,
|
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old,
|
|
black
|
|
and
|
|
dead
|
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in
|
|
the
|
|
snow,
|
|
my
|
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southern
|
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sister
|
|
Sister
|
|
Sister,
|
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was
|
|
the
|
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name
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of
|
|
the
|
|
band
|
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Flesh
|
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and
|
|
blood,
|
|
my
|
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death
|
|
close
|
|
at
|
|
hand
|
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Sister,
|
|
this
|
|
is
|
|
not
|
|
about
|
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me,
|
|
And
|
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it's
|
|
not
|
|
about
|
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you,
|
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I
|
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swear
|
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No
|
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hard
|
|
feelings,
|
|
nothing
|
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personal
|
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Soft
|
|
sculpture
|
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rides
|
|
the
|
|
air
|
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For
|
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free
|
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words,
|
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words,
|
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words...
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Longings,
|
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longings,
|
|
all
|
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in
|
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vain
|
|
Just
|
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ask
|
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vanity,
|
|
abandoned
|
|
out
|
|
in
|
|
the
|
|
rain
|
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by
|
|
the
|
|
world
|
|
Another
|
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proud
|
|
American
|
|
And
|
|
as
|
|
proud
|
|
Americans,
|
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We
|
|
let
|
|
it
|
|
slide
|
|
away
|
|
Harmless
|
|
little
|
|
negress,
|
|
you've
|
|
got
|
|
to
|
|
say,
|
|
"yes"
|
|
to
|
|
another
|
|
excess
|
|
Let's
|
|
go
|
|
for
|
|
a
|
|
ride
|
|
today
|
|
In
|
|
possession
|
|
of
|
|
eyes
|
|
that
|
|
say
|
|
In
|
|
possession
|
|
of
|
|
eyes
|
|
that
|
|
say
|
|
A
|
|
southern
|
|
bunkhouse,
|
|
blue
|
|
skies
|
|
up
|
|
above
|
|
A
|
|
kind
|
|
figure
|
|
of
|
|
feminine
|
|
grace
|
|
and
|
|
wit
|
|
passes
|
|
for
|
|
love
|
|
these
|
|
days
|
|
All
|
|
that
|
|
slender
|
|
wristed,
|
|
white,
|
|
translucent
|
|
business
|
|
passes
|
|
for
|
|
love
|
|
these
|
|
days
|
|
Much
|
|
hailed
|
|
genius
|
|
passes
|
|
for
|
|
love
|
|
these
|
|
days
|
|
Four
|
|
more
|
|
years
|
|
Four
|
|
more
|
|
years
|
|
Four
|
|
hundred
|
|
more
|
|
years
|
|
of
|
|
this
|
|
shit,
|
|
fuck
|
|
it
|
|
I
|
|
look
|
|
up,
|
|
I
|
|
see
|
|
the
|
|
North
|
|
Star
|
|
I
|
|
look
|
|
up,
|
|
I
|
|
see
|
|
the
|
|
North
|
|
Star
|
|
When
|
|
I
|
|
look
|
|
up
|
|
at
|
|
the
|
|
bar
|
|
through
|
|
these
|
|
tears
|
|
Four
|
|
white
|
|
pillars
|
|
Yankee
|
|
style
|
|
All
|
|
of
|
|
America
|
|
loves
|
|
to
|
|
light
|
|
his
|
|
pipes
|
|
All
|
|
of
|
|
America
|
|
live
|
|
to
|
|
light
|
|
his
|
|
pipe
|
|
at
|
|
night,
|
|
To
|
|
which
|
|
Dixie
|
|
responds,
|
|
"Free
|
|
me,"
|
|
And
|
|
then
|
|
washes
|
|
his
|
|
sashes,
|
|
again
|
|
"Maybe
|
|
or
|
|
maybe
|
|
not
|
|
fast
|
|
forward,"
|
|
she
|
|
said
|
|
"Maybe
|
|
once
|
|
the
|
|
seed
|
|
is
|
|
sown,
|
|
fast
|
|
forward,"
|
|
she
|
|
said
|
|
"Don't
|
|
talk
|
|
about
|
|
the
|
|
South,"
|
|
she
|
|
said
|
|
It's
|
|
not
|
|
you,
|
|
it's
|
|
nothing
|
|
personal,
|
|
No
|
|
hard
|
|
feelings,
|
|
nothing's
|
|
there
|
|
Soft
|
|
sculpture
|
|
rides
|
|
hard
|
|
on
|
|
the
|
|
air
|
|
Now
|
|
that
|
|
you
|
|
got
|
|
it
|
|
all
|
|
wrong
|
|
You
|
|
got
|
|
it
|
|
all
|
|
backwards,
|
|
girl
|
|
Enter
|
|
through
|
|
the
|
|
exit,
|
|
and
|
|
exit
|
|
through
|
|
the
|
|
entrance
|
|
when
|
|
you
|
|
can...
|
|