One handed harmonica man
The one handed harmonica manspends his life looking for his band
Hides behind long hair and beard
he's lost his life as he has feared
his cold street is his warm home
winding roads in which he'll rome
the league of gentleman under the sea
waiting to catch their afternoon tea
he walks on by, they keep on talking
he doesn't stop, keeps on walking
Their band is not what he's looking for
He tasted that life, he wants more
wanting to walk on sandy plains
wanting to walk through the forest rains
He sits alone to play his tune
hoping it will be his time soon
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