| I love You more than a slow falling summer rain
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| More than the silence that only the snow leaves behind
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| I love You more
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| And I love You better than the gray of the autumn air
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| Better than spring in it’s blooming against the sky
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| I love You more
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| It may not be red as a rose is yet
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| It may not be strong as the old oak trees
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| But love planted deeply becomes what it ought to be
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| Your love is steady and sure as a mountain’s high
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| Moving my heart like a river that gently bends
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| Your love is sure
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| Your love is wide open spaces where I can run
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| And yet we’re tangled up roots in the warm broken earth
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| Yeah our love is sure
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| And it may not be clear as a morning yet
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| It may not be wide as a restless sea
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| But love given freely becomes what it ought to be
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| And it may not be clear as a morning yet
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| It may not be wide as a restless sea
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| And it may not be red as a rose is yet
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| It may not be strong as the old oak trees
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| But love planted deeply becomes what it ought to and
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| Hearts given freely become what they ought to and
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| Love planted deeply becomes what it ought to be
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| What it ought to be |