Yeah, yeah, we can all grab at the chance to be handsome farmers
Yeah you can have twenty-one sons and be blood when they marry my daughters
And the pain that we left at the station will stay in a jar behind us
We can pickle the pain into blue ribbon winners at county contests
- "2080"
Now the world can be an unfair place at times
But your lows will have their compliment of highs
And if anyone should cheat you
Take advantage of or beat you raise your head
And wear your wounds with pride
- "Ambling Alp"
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