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Lyrics: Robert Hunter
Lyrics: Robert Hunter
Music: Kyle Hollingsworth
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No matter when it comes
No matter when it comes
One thing sure, it comes too soon
Fame, death, love, all find us
Never quite prepared, or in tune
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You can hunger through the years
For the proper combinations to appear
At long, long last it's crystal clear
You really cannot get there from here
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Others seem to know
When to make their moves
But that may not be true
More likely, they're as hungry as you
For the moment, everything clicks
The fat lady's tiger rolls and does his tricks
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Forty fifth of November
Twenty six ten on the clock
In the future, we won't remember
What will they make of such talk?
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Learn the art of compromise
Pass the days when nothing works out right
We keep the faith of years
Or we blow the whole thing up in one good fight
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Forty fifth of November
It's twenty six ten on the clock
In the future, we won't remember
What will they make of such talk?
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Feed me sweet lemon wine
Squeeze the juice from the peel
Play strip poker with time
And it's your turn to deal
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Forty fifth of November
Forty fifth of November
Forty fifth of November
Remember the day
Forty fifth of November
Remember the day
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