| Oh great intentions
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| I’ve got the best of interventions
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| But when the ads come
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| I think about it now
|
| In my infliction
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| Entrepreneurial conditions
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| Take us to glory
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| I think about it now
|
| Cannot conversations cull united nations?
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| If you got the patience, celebrate the ancients
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| Cannot all creation call it celebration?
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| Or united nation. |
| Put it to your head.
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| Oh great white city
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| I’ve got the adequate committee
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| Where have your walls gone?
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| I think about it now
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| Chicago, in fashion, the soft drinks, expansion
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| Oh Columbia!
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| From Paris, incentive, like Cream of Wheat invented,
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| The Ferris Wheel!
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| Oh great intentions
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| Covenant with the imitation
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| Have you no conscience?
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| I think about it now
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| Oh God of Progress
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| Have you degraded or forgot us?
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| Where have your laws gone?
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| I think about it now
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| Ancient hieroglyphic or the South Pacific
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| Typically terrific, busy and prolific
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| Classical devotion, architect promotion
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| Lacking in emotion. |
| Think about it now.
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| Chicago, the New Age, but what would Frank Lloyd Wright say?
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| Oh Columbia!
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| Amusement or treasure, these optimistic pleasures
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| Like the Ferris Wheel!
|
| Cannot conversations cull united nations?
|
| If you got the patience, celebrate the ancients
|
| Columbia!
|
| I cried myself to sleep last night
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| And the ghost of Carl, he approached my window
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| I was hypnotized, I was asked
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| To improvise
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| On the attitude, the regret
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| Of a thousand centuries of death
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| Even with the heart of terror and the superstitious wearer
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| I am riding all alone
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| I am writing all alone
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| Even in my best condition, counting all the superstition
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| I am riding all alone
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| I am running all alone
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| And we laughed at the beatitudes of a thousand lines
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| We were asked at the attitudes
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| They reminded us of death
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| Even with the rest belated, everything is antiquated
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| Are you writing from the heart?
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| Are you writing from the heart?
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| Even in his heart the Devil has to know the water level
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| Are you writing from the heart?
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| Are you writing from the heart?
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| And I cried myself to sleep last night
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| For the Earth, and materials, they may sound just right to me Even with the rest belated, everything is antiquated
|
| Are you writing from the heart?
|
| Are you writing from the heart?
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| Even in his heart the Devil has to know the water level
|
| Are you writing from the heart?
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| Are you writing from the heart? |