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Jacaranda Street
by
Venice (US)
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My mother told me as a child She lived on Jacaranda Street With sidewalks covered in purple flowers From the jacaranda trees She didn't live there long But then, she didn't live long anywhere Rolled around from town to town Like a Santa Ana breeze Always a new world Always the new girl Her father was a bootlegger A charmer in a Model T He played the keys, he spoke chinese Knew every back road But half the time he wasn't there And left her in her mother's care They'd move and live and move again Or so the legend goes Always a new world Always the new girl It takes a certain kind of soul To come from nearly nothing And turn it into something grand Always looking for a golden door A place to call her home Praying for the wanderer's holy land Can anybody really understand? My mother told me as a child She left her favourite doll behind No time to cry or say goodbye Just travelling on again And by the time of caps and gowns She lived in over 30 towns She'd meet someone and then it was done Lost another friend Always a new world Always the new girl It takes a certain kind of soul To come from nearly nothing And turn it into something grand Always looking for a golden door A place to call her home Praying for the wanderer's holy land Can anybody really understand? Jacaranda Jacaranda Jacaranda Jacaranda My mother told me as a child She lived on Jacaranda Street I like to think she found some peace Under Jacaranda trees It takes a certain kind of soul To come from nearly nothing And turn it into something grand Always looking for a golden door A place to call her home Praying for the wanderer's holy land Can anybody really understand?
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