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Ballad of the Times
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Narrow streets breed narrow minds and Care for king but not for kind It's a short hop to a long weekend when every move you apreehend You'll never find room to find your feet to walk out of this avenue Your pockets are lined with promises when did you promise ever pay for shoes? Counting coal trucks by the line and raise your glasses one more time 'Cause Billy has gone off to war And God knows what he's fighting for But wartime will make him a man Work that no one see, if you can A hero's grave is 6 feet deep not Room enough for all his plans. She can scrub the step but if

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