| When the morning comes and you’re still sleeping
|
| With all those dreams in your pretty head
|
| I light a fire while the sun comes creeping
|
| All across the meadow bed
|
| The old clock has stopped, no longer ticking
|
| No longer counting every second
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| Out by the car our snowman’s melting
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| Nothing can bring ‘em back now
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| His smile a twig and his nose a cucumber
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| His eyes two pinecones looking out
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| We got pictures of him like two little kids laughing
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| In the snow we were walking hand in hand
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| We went looking for a big surprise
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| And when we found before our eyes
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| Two white elks grazing on the green
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| Then we heard the honkers coming
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| Landing on the lake of summer
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| Nesting there and waiting for a dream
|
| When the morning comes and you’re still sleeping
|
| With all those dreams in your pretty head
|
| I light a fire and the sun comes creeping
|
| All across the meadow bed |