letra de intro. - mike hart
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spoken:
sound of a mouth organ
sense of separation, loneliness
memories of one’s loved ones, pals
almost forgotten, familiar names
basher, chalky, pongo and me
we had fun, we laughed together
in me moments of sadness
always a helping hand
there’s still woolen ghosts
dripping round in me mind
good old days they were
the only trouble is
all days are good old days
and by the time you realize it
it’s too late to enjoy ’em
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