| She swings on the front porch
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| And sweeps her days into an empty sky
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| Of a dream drowned in the rain
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| Out where the land is as flat as the sea
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| There’s a train pulling out west
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| And a box of money stashed under the bed
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| Up through the pines
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| And down into the city of light
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| Where the world spins on a string
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| The weave of lovers weave meet their fate
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| Down by the sea falls in love with the sailor who keeps the light house
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| Storm comes in, smashes the shore
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| The sailor’s duty comes calling
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| Begging and pleading as she falls to the floor
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| She’s left waiting
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| She waits at the front
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| Her husband come wrapped around her
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| Where she fell the stoop in the night
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| (…) all alone for months at a time |