| you can call me through the rain
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| but if love is one-sided it slowly turns into pain
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| you can call me through the snow
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| it sounds too sweet, my dear,
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| it sounds for me like a show
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| hey, the wind still blows
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| hey, too much reality shows
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| but when we’re safe in glory,
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| there’s no time for cries and sorries
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| i will be there, no lying,
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| though my singing bird is dying
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| hey, the wind still blows
|
| hey, too much reality shows
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| they say red rose is a faith
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| i say — life’s too short to wait
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| what else can i say, i don’t know, i don’t know.
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| but i know, but i know, but i know —
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| our river of love stops to flow
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| and when we’re safe in glory,
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| there’s no time for cries and sorries
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| I will be there, no lying,
|
| though my singing bird is dying
|
| hey, the wind still blows
|
| hey, too much reality shows |