| New York lady slips underneath the dim trumpet light.
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| Come from a land she’s never known.
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| She sees in her future castles burning bright,
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| But she’s got no place to go.
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| And if you should ever speak with her,
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| Keep your promises to a whisper.
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| She is listening. |
| She hears everything.
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| Into the air, and disappears,
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| Into the evening, forgotten in her lonely soul.
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| She wonders why everything ain’t right
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| For all the people down here below.
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| Hey, sister where’s your life?
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| Brother, where’s your home?
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| And if you should ever speak with her,
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| She is listening. |
| She hears everything.
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| Into the air, and disappears,
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| Into the evening, forgotten in her lonely soul.
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| There’s a whisper inside every broken heart.
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| A frail, frail dream.
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| Which runs through the traffic and plays a part.
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| Sweet love through eternity.
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| And if you should ever speak with her,
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| Keep your promises to a whisper.
|
| She is listening. |
| She hears everything.
|
| Into the air, and disappears,
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| Into the evening, forgotten in her lonely soul. |