| Moving in silent desperation
|
| Keeping an eye on the Holy Land
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| A hypothetical destination
|
| Say, who is this walking man?
|
| Well, the leaves have come to turning
|
| And the goose has gone to fly
|
| And bridges are for burning
|
| So don’t you let that yearning
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| Pass you by
|
| Walking man, walking man walks
|
| Well, any other man stops and talks
|
| But the walking man walks
|
| Well the frost is on the pumpkin
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| And the hay is in the barn yeah
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| And Pappy’s come to rambling on
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| Stumbling around drunk
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| Down on the farm
|
| And the walking man walks
|
| Doesn’t know nothing at all
|
| Any other man stops and talks
|
| But the walking man walks on by
|
| Walk on by
|
| Most everybody’s got seed to sow
|
| It ain’t always easy for a weed to grow, no no
|
| So he don’t hoe the row for no one
|
| For sure one’s always missing
|
| And something is never quite right
|
| Ah, but who would want to listen to you
|
| Kissing his existence good night
|
| Walking man walk on by my door
|
| Well, any other man stops and talks
|
| But not the walking man
|
| He’s the walking man
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| Born to walk
|
| Walk on walking man
|
| Well now, would he have wings to fly
|
| Oh would he be free
|
| Golden wings against the sky
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| Walking man, walk on by
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| So long, walking man, so long |