| It was in the March of the Winter
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| I turned seventeen
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| That I bought those pills
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| I thought I would need
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| And I wrote a letter
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| To my family
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| Said, «it's not your fault
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| And you’ve been good to me.»
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| Just lately I’ve been feeling
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| Like I don’t belong
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| Like the ground’s not mine
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| To walk upon
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| And I’ve heard that music
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| Echo through the house
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| Where my grandmother drank
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| By herself
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| And I sat watching a flower
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| As it was withering
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| I was embarrassed by
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| Its honesty
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| So I’d prefer to be remembered
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| As a smiling face
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| Not this fucking wreck
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| That’s taken its place
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| So please forgive what I have done
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| No, you can’t stay mad at the setting sun
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| 'cause we all get tired, I mean, eventually
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| There is nothing left to do but sleep
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| But Spring came, bearing sunlight
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| Those persuasive rays
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| So I gave myself
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| A few more days
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| My salvation, it came, quite suddenly
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| When Justin spoke, very plainly
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| He said, «now, of course it’s your decision
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| But just so you know
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| If you decide to leave
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| Soon, I will follow»
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| I wrote this for a baby
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| Who has yet to be born
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| My brother’s first child
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| I hope that womb’s not too warm
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| 'cause it’s cold out here
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| And it’ll be quite a shock
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| To breathe this air
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| To discover loss
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| So I’d like to make some changes
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| Before you arrive
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| So when your new eyes meet mine
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| They won’t see no lies
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| Just love
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| Just love
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| I will be pure
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| No, no, I know i will be pure
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| Like snow, like gold
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| Like snow, like gold
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| Like snow, like snow
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| Like gold, like gold, like gold |