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All Along The Watchtower
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There must be some kind of way out of here Said the joker to the thief There's too much confusion I can't get no relief Business men, they drink my wine Plough men dig my earth None of them along the line Know what any of it is worth No reason to get excited The thief he kindly spoke There are many here among us Who feel that life is but a joke But you and I we've been through all that And this is not our fate So let us not talk falsely now The hour is getting late


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