| There’s a light in the darkness
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| Just barely out of view
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| From the corner of your vision
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| It beckons to you
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| After the crops have all come in
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| Amid the stubble and the chaff
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| Keep on walkin' when it whispers
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| And don’t look back
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| Some say it’s the Ghost Train’s headlights
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| Or poor Wayland Smiths' pyre
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| Some say it’s the will o' the wisp
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| Or St. Elmo’s fire
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| Or the ghost of wanderin' spirits
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| That got lost between the worlds
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| Keep on walkin' when they whisper
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| Or if the lines begin to blur
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| When it’s done, it’s said and done
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| When it’s gone, it’s good and gone
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| Sometimes there’s nothin' left to do
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| But pack it up and move along
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| I’m not sayin' I don’t remember
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| Or that all things can be repaired
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| But after the truth has been told
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| Where do we go from there?
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| Sorrow is a constant companion
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| We just learn to walk beside
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| Keep walkin' when it whispers
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| And don’t listen when it lies
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| When it’s done, it’s said and done
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| When it’s gone, it’s good and gone
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| Sometimes there’s nothin' left to do
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| But pack it up and move along
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| There are stories we are told
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| Just to keep us in our place
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| There are stories we made up ourselves
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| To save a little face
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| There’s are ones that made us crazy
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| And ones that kept us sane
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| Keep on walkin' if the stories
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| All start to sound the same
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| When it’s done, it’s said and done
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| When it’s gone, it’s good and gone
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| Sometimes there’s nothin' left to do
|
| But pack it up and move along
|
| When it’s done, it’s said and done
|
| When it’s gone, it’s good and gone
|
| Sometimes there’s nothin' left to do
|
| But pack it up and move along
|
| Sometimes there’s nothin' left to do
|
| But pack it up and move along
|
| Sometimes there’s nothin' left to do
|
| But pack it up and move along |