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Sometimes we feel the grass is greener,
on the other side.
So we pack our bags and run away,
tyring our best to hide.
When we get there all is lost,
and much to our dismay.
We find the grass that we were seeking,
in nothing more than hay.
Now I realize, but it's too late,
when you're in pain it's just too hard.
The grass that I was seeking,
was in my own back yard.
Now I'm here and my family's there,
I find I'm all alone.
If I could turn the hands of time,
I would have stayed at home.
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