| Well I'll be damned
|
| Here comes your ghost again
|
| But that's not unusual
|
| It's just that the moon is full
|
| And you happened to call
|
| And here I sit
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| My hand on the telephone
|
| Hearing a voice I'd known
|
| A couple of light years ago
|
| Heading straight for a fall
|
| As I remember your eyes
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| Were bluer than robin's eggs
|
| My poetry was lousy you said
|
| Where are you calling from?
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| A booth in the midwest
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| Ten years ago
|
| I bought you some cufflinks
|
| Oh, and you brought me something
|
| We both know what memories can bring
|
| They bring diamonds and rust
|
| Well you burst on the scene
|
| Already a legend
|
| The unwashed phenomenon
|
| The original vagabond
|
| You strayed into my arms
|
| And there you stayed
|
| Temporarily lost at sea
|
| The Madonna was yours for free
|
| Yes the girl on the half-shell
|
| Could keep you unharmed
|
| Now I see you standing with leaves falling around and snow in your hair
|
| Now you're smiling out the window of that hotel over Washington Square
|
| Our breath comes out white clouds mingles and hangs in the air
|
| Speaking strictly for me, we both could have died then and there
|
| Now you're telling me
|
| You're not nostalgic
|
| Then give me another word for it
|
| You who are so good with words
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| And at keeping things vague
|
| 'Cause I need some of that vagueness now it's all come back too clearly
|
| Oh, I loved you dearly
|
| And if you're offering me diamonds and rust
|
| I've already paid
|
| Diamonds and rust
|
| Diamonds and rust
|
| Diamonds and rust |