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Copyright 2005. All Rights Reserved.

Wind is blowing but the trees don't move,
I guess she ain't gonna share her fruit.
Engine hit me, stoned me cold,
train's moving, but i'm in the coach.

So tall, she'll tell you a tale.
She never told anyone, anything at all.
Be yourself, or I'm gone, or I'm out of here,
cause I don't stick around for that kind of shit my dear.

Be yourself, don't try so hard to be somebody else.