Well, God is in his heaven
And we are what was his
But power and greed and corruptible seed
Seem to be all that there is
And we are what was his
But power and greed and corruptible seed
Seem to be all that there is
I'm gazing out the window
Of the St. James Hotel
And I dont know no one that can sing the blues
Like blind Wille McTell
Of the St. James Hotel
And I dont know no one that can sing the blues
Like blind Wille McTell
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