These are not myAnd I'll take the high road from factory to factory Oh yeah... There are millions and millions of people around On my TV, walking my streets, making sounds And I can walk with them, I love them, I need them But there are others I have known as poor souls, sores exposed To the run-of-the-mill, the destitute and the cold Sores exposed to the blisters and shards Where any kind of kindness is as far as the sun The sun...the sun...the sun...run...run...run... I know a place, I've (azchords.com)
