| I think of you much more than
|
| I would like to admit that I do before strangers
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| But there you are
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| Whistling through the trees again
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| Rustling through the leaves my friend
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| A feather on my pillow lets me know that you’re near
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| I remember the night that you arrived
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| December maybe '95
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| Your hair and your breath smelled of John Player Specials
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| A stranger who I learned to love
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| A friend when really no one was
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| My Daedalus, my wings to fly
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| Why’d you leave me behind?
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| My beautiful crow
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| And all those black feathers perched deep in my soul
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| Won’t let me, let you go
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| I never really thanked you for all of the light
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| You brought into my mother’s eyes
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| So many others tried
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| Her sadness since the day you left
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| She will not get out of bed
|
| She stares out the window, smokes a black pack of JPS
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| I was out on St. Paul’s when I heard about your fall
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| Walking with Caroline, she bums smokes from time to time
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| I walked home alone that night
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| I could feel you when I closed my eyes
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| I looked up into the night and watched black feathers fall from the sky
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| I think of you much more than I’m allowed to admit
|
| But I do, I still do
|
| My beautiful crow
|
| And all those black feathers perched deep in my soul
|
| Won’t let me, let you go
|
| I have tried to push you down
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| I have tried to cut you out
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| You’re rattling your cage
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| I’m rattling my cage
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| I have tried to drown you out
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| Drink till I don’t hear the sound
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| The song’s still the same
|
| The song’s still the same
|
| My beautiful crow, and all those black feathers
|
| Perched deep in my soul
|
| Won’t let me, let you go |