| This is my last letter
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| Dear, to you
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| This is my last letter, baby
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| I just can’t write you anymore
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| My poor little finger’s swollen
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| I’m tired of pacing the floor, yes, I am
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| Threw away our favorite record
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| It was tearing me apart
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| This is my seventh letter, baby
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| Just to satisfy my heart
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| (One) Monday, I wrote and told you
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| I was all alone and blue
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| (Two) Tuesday, I wrote again, baby
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| I said I loved no one, no one
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| No one but you, no, I don’t
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| (Three) Wednesday, I wired you a cable
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| Begging you to call
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| (Four) Thursday, I sent the message
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| I said I was wrong and, darling
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| Please come back home
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| (Five) Friday, I woke up crying
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| With the sniff of a tear
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| (Six) come along long lonesome Saturday
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| I did the same thing all over again
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| Yes, I did
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| (Seven) this is my seventh letter, baby
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| On this bright Sunday morning
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| Just got off my knees from praying
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| I said, Oh, Lord, oh, Lord
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| Please send her back home
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| Can’t she hear me talking to her
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| (This is my last letter
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| Dear, to you)
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| Seven letters, seven days
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| Seven long, lonely days
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| There, I said it
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| (This is my last letter
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| Dear, to you) yes, it is
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| Yes, it is, yes, it is
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| Oh, yes, it is |