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Gabriel Kahane
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Refugee Blues
Say this city has ten million souls.
Some are living in mansions, some are living in holes.
Yet there's no place for us, my dear.
Yet there's no place for us.
Once we had a country, and we thought it fair.
Look in the atlas, and you'll find it there.
We cannot go there now, my dear,
We cannot go there now.
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