| I once had a qilded clock
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| Constructed in la Belle Epoque
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| The hour hand broke, now it won’t turn back
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| So long, so long, so long
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| I once had a sundial too
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| But green and wild my garden grew
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| The undergrowth obscured the view
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| So long, so long, so long
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| Not a word could make her stay
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| The East wind blows the sun away
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| Oh I lost her on St. Swithin’s day
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| Oh why?
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| I grew up in a house of clocks
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| And late at night I’d sometimes walk
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| Listening to their rhythmic talk
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| So long, so long, so long
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| Clocks that sand in ringing chimes
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| To take the measure of the times
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| Clocks that spoke in wordless rhymes
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| So long, so long, so long
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| Not a word could make her stay
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| The wine is spilt and flows away
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| I lost her on St. Swithin’s day
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| Oh why? |