| Sitting here in Avalon, looking at the pouring rain
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| Summertime has come and gone and everybody’s home again
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| Closing down for the season, I found the last of the souvenirs
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| I can still taste the wedding cake and it’s sweet after all these years
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| These are the last words I have to say
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| That’s why this took so long to write
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| There will be other words some other day
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| But that’s the story of my life
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| There’s comfot in my coffee cup and apples in the early fall
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| They’re pulling all the moorings up and gathering at the Legion Hall
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| They swept away all the streamers after the Labor Day parade
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| Nothing left for a dream now, only one final serenade
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| And these are the last words I have to say
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| Before another age goes by With all those other songs I’ll have to play
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| But that’s the story of my life
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| And it’s so clear standing here where I am Ain’t that what justice is for?
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| Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn anymore
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| Stack the chairs on the table tops
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| Hang the sheets on the chandeliers
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| It slows down but it never stops
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| Ain’t it sweet after all these years
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| And these are the last words I have to say
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| It’s always hard to say goodbye
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| But now it’s time to put this book away
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| Ain’t that the story of my life
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| Eric Wincentsen
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| 267@ef.gc.maricopa.edu
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| Glendale Community College
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| Glendale, Arizona
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| I’m just marking my territory… |