| The stories of the world are sung
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| In places that were never young
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| I have counted every one
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| All the clouds will come to you
|
| So the sun never comes through
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| And we will hide
|
| From twenty years of winter sky
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| The faces of the world are hung
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| In places I was never born
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| Some will smile while others moan
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| All the clouds will come to you
|
| So the sun never comes through
|
| And we will hide
|
| From twenty years of winter sky
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| Pictures of the world are shown
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| In places I have never known
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| Who will know who shaped the stone
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| All the clouds will come to you
|
| So the sun never comes through
|
| And we will hide
|
| From twenty years of winter sky
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| Still it turns and says to me
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| In words that come uneasily
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| Answers are not meant to be
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| All the clouds will come to you
|
| So the sun never comes through
|
| And we will hide
|
| From twenty years of winter sky |