| A diamonds fades quickly when matched to the face of Maria
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| All the harps they sound empty when she lifts her lips to the sky
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| The brown of her skin makes her hair seem a soft golden rainfall
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| That spills from mountains to the bottomless depths of her eyes
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| Well, she stands all around me, her hands slowly sifting the sunshine
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| All the laughter that lingers down deep beneath her smiling is free
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| Well, it spins and it twirls like a hummingbird lost in the morning
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| And caresses the south wind and silently sails to the sea
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| Ah, the sculptor stands stricken, painter he throws away his brushes
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| When her image comes dancing the sun, she turns sullen with shame
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| And the birds they go silent, the wind stops his sad, mournful singing
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| When the trees of the forest start gently to whispering her name
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| So as softly she wanders I’ll desperately follow her footsteps
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| And I’ll chase after shadows that offer a trace of her sight
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| Ah, they promise eternally that she lays hidden within them
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| But I find they’ve deceived me and sadly I bid them goodbye
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| So the serpent slides softly away with these moments of laughter
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| And the the old washy woman has finished her cleaning and gone
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| But the bamboo hangs heavy in the bondage of quicksilver daydreams
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| And a lonely child longingly looks for a place to belong |