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Hart Corey Young Man Running Crossroad Caravan Six years old And the summer was cold and Once again we were movin' on My old man Well he don't understand Can't you see she cries again You gave us shelter Your arms could melt her You gave us all A good, good life She woke up one night With the world on her shoulders May sound funny But I think she felt free Here we go The wind blows Crossroad caravan No 'o On a caravan 'O no. |
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