| A tenement, a dirty street
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| Walked and worn by shoeless feet
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| Inside its long and so complete
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| Watched by a shivering sun
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| Old eyes in a small childs face
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| Watching as the shadows race
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| Through walls and cracks and leave no trace
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| And daylights brightness shuns
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| The days of pearly spencer
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| The race is almost run
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| Nose pressed hard on frosted glass
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| Gazing as the swollen mass
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| On concrete fields where grows no grass
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| Stumbles blindly on Iron trees smother the air
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| But withering they stand and stare
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| Through eyes that neither know nor care
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| Where the grass is gone
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| The days of pearly spencer
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| The race is almost run
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| Pearly wheres your milk white skin
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| Whats that stubble on your chin
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| Its buried in the rot gut gin
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| You played and lost not won
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| You played a house that cant be beat
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| Now look your heads bowed in defeat
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| You walked too far along the street
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| Where only rats can run
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| The days of pearly spencer
|
| The race is almost run
|
| The days of pearly spencer
|
| The race is almost run
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| The race is almost run
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| A tenement, a dirty street
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| Remember worn and shoeless feet
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| Remember how you stood to beat
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| The way your life had gone
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| So pearly dont you shed more tears
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| For those best forgotten years
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| Those tenements are memories
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| Of where youve risen from
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| The days of pearly spencer
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| The race is almost won |