By Paul McCartney
Walking Down The Sidewalk One Purple Afternoon,
I Was Accosted By A Barker Playing A Simple Tune Upon His Flute.
Silver Rain Was Falling Down
Upon The Dirty Ground Of London Town.
People Pass Me By On My Imaginary Street,
Ordinary People It's Impossible To Meet,
Holding Conversations That Are Always Incomplete.
Well I Don't Know.
Oh, Where Are There Places To Go?
Someone, Somewhere Has To Know.
I don't Know.
Out Of Work...
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