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Lyrics:
You hear that, son? That’s the sound of stories untold The wind blows them east They never grow old You hear that, boy? That’s the sound of the train It carries the world on its shoulders Like a man carries his pain
Someday you’ll be grown up like me And you’ll know what’s good That good rain makes a good harvest For the places we’ve stood
You see that, son? That’s the carpenter’s table He works with his hands He was born in a stable You see that, boy? That’s the place of the skull A good, good man, he died there The poor he makes full
Someday you’ll be grown up like me And you’ll know what’s good That good men, they raise good sons To stand where he stood
But I’m draggin’ my feet Wounded by the enemy I’m draggin’ my feet Wounded by the enemy
Someday you’ll be grown up like me And you’ll know what’s good But I don’t know what good is anymore Don’t stand where I stood
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