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Deep green hills whose shoulders fade Into the gray tall wet grass Whose flesh makes fools of grazing sheep Whose fleecing makes a fool of me And who shall I blame for this sweet and heavy trouble? For every stupid struggle, I don't know I could buy you a drink, I could tell you all about it I could tell you why I doubt it, and why I still believe But I can't say it like I sing it And I can't sing it like I think it And I can't think it like I feel it And I don't feel a thing, oh no, I don't feel a thing And who shall I blame for this sweet and heavy trouble? For every stupid struggle, I don't know I could buy you a drink, I could tell you all about it I could tell you why I doubt it and why I still believe it And why I need it and what the pharisees don't see And we'd have more drinks, we'd speak of so many things But I don't know you and you don't know me