| If you cover your eyes some morning
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| Trying vainly to blot out her face
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| But your memory gives fair warning
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| That the past isn’t easy to erase
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| When you stop and you stare
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| But never notice what was there
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| Mr., you’ve gone and got the blues
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| When your friends point a finger at you
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| 'Cause you’re starting to look like you feel
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| And you say to yourself is that you
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| With a heartache a mirror can reveal
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| When a comforting word
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| Becomes a noise that’s never heard
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| Mr., you’ve gone and got the blues
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| How do I know
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| Well Mr., if you take a look
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| At yours truly you’ll see
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| Some time ago
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| Blues was the finger man
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| That suddenly cornered me So you walk where the shadows hide you
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| 'Cause your tears can get out of control
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| But I know what goes on inside you
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| For your eyes are the wndows
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| Of your soul
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| When you’re wondering what
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| Can be this feeling that you’ve got
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| Mr., say anything you choose
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| But you’ve gone and got the blues |