| Althea -- Grateful Dead (Hunter/Garcia) |
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| | I told Al | thea I was | feeling los | t, | lacking in | some di | rection. |
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| | Althea told | me upon | scrutin | y that my | back migh | t need pro | tection. |
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| I | told Althea that | treachery was | tearing me | limb from limb. |
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| Al | thea told me better | cool down | boy, | settle back, | easy Jim. | |
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| | You may be | Saturday's | child, all | alone, |
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| | Moving with | a tinge of | grace. |
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| | You may be a | clown in | the burying | ground, |
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| | Or just another | pretty | face. |
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| | You may meet in the fate of O | phelia | sleeping and penchant to | dream. |
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| | Honest to the point of | recklessness, | self-centered | in the | extreme. |
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| | Ain't nobody | messing with | you, but | you, |
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| | Your friends are | getting most | concerned. |