Songtexte Same Old Man - Karen Dalton
                                                It's 
                                                the 
                                                same 
                                                old 
                                                lady, 
                                                hanging 
                                                out 
                                                the 
                                                wash
 
                                    
                                
                                                Standing 
                                                in 
                                                the 
                                                rain, 
                                                in 
                                                her 
                                                mackintosh
 
                                    
                                
                                                Same 
                                                old 
                                                lady 
                                                standing 
                                                in 
                                                the 
                                                rain
 
                                    
                                
                                                Even 
                                                the 
                                                thought 
                                                of 
                                                New 
                                                York 
                                                was 
                                                going 
                                                insane
 
                                    
                                
                                                Hey 
                                                little 
                                                leaf, 
                                                lying 
                                                on 
                                                the 
                                                ground
 
                                    
                                
                                                Now 
                                                you're 
                                                turning 
                                                slightly 
                                                brown
 
                                    
                                
                                                Why 
                                                don't 
                                                you 
                                                get 
                                                up 
                                                on 
                                                the 
                                                tree
 
                                    
                                
                                                Turn 
                                                the 
                                                color 
                                                green 
                                                the 
                                                way 
                                                you 
                                                ought 
                                                to 
                                                be
 
                                    
                                
                                                My 
                                                mind 
                                                is 
                                                failing 
                                                and 
                                                my 
                                                body 
                                                grows 
                                                weak
 
                                    
                                
                                                My 
                                                lips 
                                                won't 
                                                form 
                                                the 
                                                words 
                                                    I 
                                                speak
 
                                    
                                
                                                I'm 
                                                floating 
                                                away 
                                                on 
                                                    a 
                                                barrel 
                                                of 
                                                pain
 
                                    
                                
                                                New 
                                                York 
                                                City 
                                                won't 
                                                see 
                                                me 
                                                again
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                same 
                                                old 
                                                man, 
                                                sitting 
                                                by 
                                                the 
                                                mill
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                mill 
                                                will 
                                                turn 
                                                of 
                                                its 
                                                own 
                                                free 
                                                will
 
                                    
                                
                                                I'm 
                                                certainly 
                                                glad 
                                                to 
                                                be 
                                                home
 
                                    
                                
                                                New 
                                                York 
                                                City 
                                                continues 
                                                all 
                                                alone
 
                                    
                                
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