| Whenever light shines down on misery
|
| It can only make things worse
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| On the day we met she burned so bright
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| I was lucky as a gypsy curse
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| Well she was blushing like a wedding day
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| With her eyes so sharp and black
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| And her gentle little smile
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| Was the color of blood
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| And she’s never ever coming back
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| Now let me tell you:
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| I’ve been up since a quarter to three
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| And I’ve been pacing back and forth
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| Through the hall
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| I’ve been thinking 'bout the first time
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| She took my hand
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| And I don’t understand it at all
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| Whatever hopes I once kept safe and sound
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| In a locker underneath my bed
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| Whatever thoughts I once kept to myself
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| Are drowneded out and dead
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| Because she sounded like a symphony
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| When she simply said my name
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| And the long blue days
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| That once were hers
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| Are long now just the same
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| In the hallway hangs a photograph
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| On her hand, a diamond ring
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| She mailed it with a little note
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| She nailed it to the edge of my wing
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| I have burned out every sympathy
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| And the house is still and black
|
| But now I’ve seen my misery
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| And she’s never ever coming back |