| Sleepy Sunday morning, afternoons in the sun
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| Monday is waiting, waiting its turn
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| Daylight has wilted,
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| And even though our sky has cleared
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| Time won’t hesitate to burn away
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| Sleepy Sunday morning on an island far away
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| Nights spent gazing up at the stars
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| Tides of tomorrow, will they bring or wash away
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| Our love-filled dreams of paradise?
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| All the world around us is ocean blue
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| So tell me, dear, is it true:
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| The more that you know, the less you believe in?
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| Tides of tomorrow
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| How they ebb and they flow!
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| What a summer day, full of summer ways
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| It rains so warm here, I can’t believe
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| Counting constellations in the tropical skies
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| Chimes likes thousands of wet, teary eyes
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| Summer comes and goes, and who could ever know
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| If this, indeed, is our last one together!
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| Tides of tomorrow, will they bring or wash away
|
| Our love-filled dreams of paradise?
|
| All the world around us is ocean blue
|
| So tell me, dear, is it true:
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| The less that you know,
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| The more you believe in?
|
| Tides of tomorrow
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| How they ebb and how they flow! |