| Jesus at the table in the early morning
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| Dad, I’ve been thinking I got to get born
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| Got to mean something heavy to somebody somewhere
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| I don’t know who I am but I can’t stay here
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| I didn’t mean to stand up, I didn’t mean to daydream
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| I didn’t want to hear it calling my name
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| Regular life don’t suit me at all
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| I gotta get going, I’m still not home
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| I try so hard and I’m still not home
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| Robert Johnson was trembling, calling for help
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| At the edge of the field talking to himself
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| Not a woman, not a dollar, not even his soul
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| Feels as good in his hands as that old guitar
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| He say, Nobody sees how desperate I’m torn
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| Feel like I’m crazy the way that I’m going
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| Don’t know if it’s from up high or way down low
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| I try so hard, I’m still not home
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| I gotta get going, I’m still not home
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| You know that ache’s grown so familiar
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| How many times I got to shoo it from my door
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| Putting the shine on the far side of the river
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| Come round to bruise me up a little bit more
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| Come round to bruise me up just a little bit more
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| One day, I’m gonna light like a season of green
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| My heart is gonna run like a flying machine
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| Lipstick and a nickel in the pocket of my coat
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| I won’t even care if I never come back
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| All the windows open and the wind like wheels
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| Nobody can tell you the way that it feels
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| Lord, if you could see the way I’m gonna soar
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| I gotta get going, I’m still not home
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| I best be going, I’m still not home
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| I try so hard, I’m still not home
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| I gotta get going, I’m still not home |