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Scaevola's Fire
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The Baron Green
O, below is Farmer Tom, toiling at his till That before his father gave to him against his will As Baron Green's wagon disappears into the night Yearning for his easel, Tom turns unto to his wife and says
Don't you ever think we could be the same? If I'd been born like him, I could have acclaim! 'Cause
Money has the poor man crowned Money makes the world go round and round and Money does my life confound Money makes the world go 'round and 'round and 'round
Accompanied by avarice, Green grasps to understand Superficiality, the women of his land Fancying a farmer's wife, in barren fields below Watching out his window, whispers sad and soft and low
Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com Don't you ever think we could be the same? If I'd been born like him, she could speak my name… But
Money has the poor man crowned Money makes the world go round and round and Money does my life confound Money makes the world go 'round and 'round and 'round
Money has the poor man crowned Money makes the world go round and round and Money does my life confound Money makes the world go 'round and 'round and 'round
And Round And Round And Round And Round
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