Eight Miles High

Clark, McGuinn, Crosby / the Byrds

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Eight miles high, and when you touch down:
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You'll find that it's stranger than known.
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Signs in the street that say where you're going
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Are somewhere just being their own.
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Nowhere is there to be found,
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Among those afraid of losing their ground.
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Mean grey town known for its sound:
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In places, small places unbound.
 
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Now the squares of moving storms:
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Some laughing, some just shapeless forms.
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Sidewalk scenes and black limousines:
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Some living some standing alone.


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