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Sunday Clown

Your momma and me donít get along. We love each other. We just ran out of things to say. Guess Iím in the way. Nothingís right, but neither of us Is wrong.
Iíll still see you when I can. Sundays weíll have All day long to share. Weíll go to the faire. Call anytime, Iíll always be your Old man.
Watch me glide Up and down. Tip your hat To the Sunday clown. Heís there for you. Still there for you.
Doctor, lawyer, Commander-in-Chief, You can be anything That you want to be. So donít look at me. I once stole your mommaís heart, but I never was A thief.
Once we were young, and we had nothing but hope. Once, oh, once upon a time... We chased our future, but all we caught was enough rope We really thought fairy tales might just come true. To hang ourselves by our plans and schemes, Oh, no.... And all our sentimental dreams. Oh, no, they never do. Rock-a-bye, then down comes cradle and all. All thatís left of our fine dreams... Ashes, ashes, everybody must fall. Is you. Watch me fall!
Letís go riding in the park. Weíll rent a carriage, And then just roll away. Of courseóitís okay. Besides, your momma likes you home before It gets dark.
Late at night, when Iím on my own, I lie awake And watch these dreams unfold. Iím gonna get old. And sometimes it seems so far to go Alone.
Watch me glide Up and down. Tip your hat To the Sunday clown. Heís there for you. Still there for you.