| All the highways that you’ve walked
|
| And all the poets with whom you’ve talked
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| They could never, ever corrupt you.
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| All the highwaymen you’ve loved
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| They tried to hold you with kid gloves
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| You’re far, so far above any of those.
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| You always took the highways
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| While I walked the low
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| Ev’rytime I’d wear the clothes you’d sew.
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| You went out dancing round the park
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| I tried to keep you from the dark
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| All the ladies in waiting will wait there for the rest of their lives.
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| All the countesses and all the queens
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| The redheads and rinsed-out blondes
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| They’re just gonna, gonna have to wait their turn.
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| 'Cause all the dreams I had last year
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| They seem to have disappeared
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| They’ve vanished with every turn of the page.
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| All the highways that I’ve known
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| All the girls that must atone
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| All the risks I ever took when I was young.
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| Oh, we’ll walk round London Town
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| By the post-office, the pillars and crowns
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| Oh, I tell you, 'cause you were born to be with me.
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| Oh, come on baby blue
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| You know this song’s for you
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| Oh, tell me, oh, tell me it ain’t so.
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| Oh, come on baby blue
|
| You know this one’s for you
|
| And I tell you
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| Wouldn’t tell your mother or any other
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| You know it’s true now.
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| All the postcards that you sent
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| Oh, God knows where they went
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| I found them, found them down by Manor House.
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| And I send you fond regards
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| From a friend at Scotland Yard
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| Who I caught investigating me.
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| All the highways that you’ve walked
|
| And all the riff-raff with whom you’ve talked
|
| They could never, never corrupt you.
|
| All the highwaymen you loved
|
| They tried to hold you with velvet gloves
|
| Oh, they’ll never, never give up on you
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| Oh, baby blue.
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| Oh, come on baby blue
|
| Let’s go and switch a few
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| Or anything, anything that comes our way.
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| So tell me one more time
|
| 'fore we finish off the wine
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| I wrote it so you would know. |