People here, in New Jersey
are all in a big hurry
though most are going nowhere
It’s a spiritual famine
If I could, I would vanish
and throw lost souls a bone, but
If I go up to your hills
I may not ever want to come down
Nearby, in Pennsylvania
all my problems, I’d take them
’cause sadly, I’m a valley
Sure, like there is no rain there…
But I’d march off, insanely
Yes, gladly, but it’s madness
If I go up to your hills
I may not ever want to come down
Like the Amish, we are
Like the Amish, we are
And of course, the New Yorkers
the unfortunate lost there
are miles and miles apart from
All of us in New Jersey
‘Cause we all can still worry
like I do with this heart ’cause
If I go up to your hills
I may not ever want to come down
Like the Amish, we are
Like the Amish, we are
Safe from harm here, so far
On this star for a while
On this charming red star
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