| It was my first night in that rooming house
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| In the last room down the hall
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| I heard a hoarse voice and an old guitar
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| Coming through the paper thin walls
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| A crazy nonsense nursery rhyme
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| That did not mean a thing
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| But for the first of what was to be a thousand times
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| This is what I hear him sing..
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| Hold that D chord on the old guitar
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| 'Til I found the G
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| Drop it down to old E minor
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| 'Til the A chord rolls back home around to D
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| I had to lay there listening
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| It seemed he was in the room
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| This stranger with his melody
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| Singing there in the gloom
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| And he repeated it over and over again
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| Such a soft and sinkin' sound
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| It was kind of like a music box that was slowly winding down
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| You see, he sang it, he hummed it
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| Whistled it, and he strummed it
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| He laughed it and he cried it
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| He did everything but hide it
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| And he sang. |
| .
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| Hold that D chord on the old guitar
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| 'Til I found the G
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| Drop it down to old E minor
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| 'Til the A chord rolls back home around for me
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| So I lay there in that lumpy bed
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| Countin' choruses instead of sheep
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| 'Til I banged on the wall and out I called
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| «Hey bub I need some sleep.»
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| The sudden void of silence, then I heard that hoarse voice say
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| «It weren’t so long ago boy, they paid me to play "
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| I said, «It's kind of late for music sir
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| Two hours til it’s daylight»
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| He answered, «I need my music most
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| In these dark hours of the night
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| You see I’ve tried gettin' high on something son
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| But it only brings me down
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| Staying dry don’t work out better boy
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| 'Cause my eyes get wet and I drown
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| Won’t you please let me continue
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| And I’ll be in your debt
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| You see I’m not singing to remember son
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| I’m just singing to forget»
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| And he sang.
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| Hold that D chord on the old guitar
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| 'Til I found the G
|
| Drop it down to old E minor
|
| 'Til the A chord rolls back home around for me
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| That’s when I said
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| «If I’m supposed to listen to you sir
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| Just one quick question then
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| Why in the hell do you sing one song
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| Over and over again?»
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| And this is what he said..
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| He said, «I gave her the music son
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| She gave me the words
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| Together we’d write the kind of songs
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| The angels must have heard
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| Of course we’d fight like cats and dogs
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| But life ain’t no rosebud dream
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| Still whatever we’d do everybody knew
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| We truly were a team
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| I can’t remember now if I done her wrong
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| Or if she done wrong to me
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| But all I know that when I let her go
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| That it did not set me free
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| That’s when I said, «You sound like what’s-his-name»
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| He said, «That's who I am
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| But you can’t wrap a name around you boy
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| 'Cause it really don’t mean a damn
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| You see, a song don’t have much meaning
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| When it dan’t have nothing to say
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| What she could do was magic son
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| All I could do was play»
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| He started singing again
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| That’s when I drifted off
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| Maybe I dreamed what I heard
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| 'Bout this stranger with his melody
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| Who’d gone and lost the words
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| Hold that D chord on the old guitar
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| 'Til I found the G
|
| Drop it down to old E minor
|
| 'Til the A chord rolls back home around to D |