| You’re such a pretty face, with so much open space, to hold you
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| With so much more to say, and only one more day, to know you
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| The clouds are movin' on
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| And I wish we were movin' on and you
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| Wish we were movin' on
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| The troubles keep movin' on
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| I wish I was movin' on with you
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| And you were movin' on with me
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| The clouds are movin' on
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| Again and again
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| But the city’s alive
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| And so is that ocean, where one might survive again
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| And out on the strand
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| The fellas are marchin' but the stone becomes sand again
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| There’s so much anger here
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| And so much more to fear, I miss you
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| With so much more to say
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| And only one more day
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| It hurts me to know you’re alive
|
| But the city’s alive, and so is that ocean
|
| Where one might survive again
|
| And out on the strand, the fellas are marchin'
|
| But the stone becomes sand again
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| And it hurts me to know you’re alive
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| And it hurts just to know that you’re fine
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| And it hurts just to know where I stand
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| When it’s me and you out on the strand, we’ll say
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| The city’s alive, and so is that ocean, where one might survive again
|
| And out on the strand, the fellas are marchin'
|
| But the stone becomes sand again
|
| The city’s alive, and so is that ocean, where one might survive again
|
| And out on the strand, the fellas are marchin'
|
| But the stone becomes sand, the stone becomes sand
|
| The stone becomes sand again |