| She asked me to work on that knot
|
| Now I’ve been at that
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| Coalface some time
|
| I’ve been trying to untie that knot
|
| I’m trying to work it to a soft spot
|
| And lie there a while
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| Just south of her shoulder
|
| And west of her spine
|
| Now you’d think that I could
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| Untie that knot
|
| I’m the one who put it there in
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| The first place
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| But it’s like trying to remember
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| Where you’ve buried treasure
|
| Well I’ve a vague idea
|
| But it was under the pale moon light
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| And I was south of her shoulder
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| And west of her spine
|
| Sometimes early in the morning
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| I watch her breathing rise and fall
|
| I’ve spilled in drunk beside her
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| In the stillness of dawn
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| See how her hair spills over
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| Like frayed ends of twine
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| All wild and wrapped around her
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| Like these wandering arms of mine
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| Well I hope they find a soft spot
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| Where I can lie for a while
|
| Just south of her shoulder
|
| And west of her spine
|
| Now careful not to wake her
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| I trace back along the twine
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| To where her never endings sing
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| Of too much of my time
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| It’s here I’ll rest my chin
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| And breathe her deep and smile
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| For I think I’ve found a soft spot
|
| And I’ll lie here a while
|
| It’s here I’ll raise my flag
|
| And claim this land as mine
|
| Just south of her shoulder
|
| And west of her spine |