| It’s cold along the coast tonight
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| The wind is on the rise
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| There’s a storm come up from Africa
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| And it’s tearing up the skies
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| The sand from the Sahara
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| Cuts deep into your skin
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| Close your eyes so you cannot see
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| What’s carried on the wind, the wind
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| What’s carried on the wind
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| People talk in whispers
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| People hide their eyes
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| The wind blows ever stronger
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| And it covers their cries
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| They close down the shutters
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| They bar the door
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| The wind taps at the window
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| Like a painted whore, the whore
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| Like a painted whore
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| I will hold you close tonight
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| I will keep you warm
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| I will keep the dream alive
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| And stand against the storm
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| As long as I am able I will not bend
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| I will be true to you
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| And faithful to the end, the end
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| And faithful to the end
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| When the final bell is tolled
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| Will we shake in fear
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| Or raise our glass just one more time
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| Pretend we didn’t hear
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| We think that we’re immortal
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| Somehow the song lives on
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| Maybe whistled in the wind
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| When everything is gone, is gone
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| When everything is gone |