| And I hack sorrow to my mind
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| As a mother to her breast a still-born child
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| And of my nights I make black paper roses
|
| And to my afternoons I take fancy balloons
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| I love the silver of your gold
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| I love the gentle of your day
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| I love the unexpected tender of your way
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| I even love the sudden winters of your May
|
| And of my nights I make black paper roses
|
| And to my afternoons I take fancy balloons
|
| I watch and listen to the song
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| Of how you loved me once, but not for long
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| Yet in your absence I would love you once again
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| It helps to ease my mind and takes away the pain
|
| And of my nights I make black paper roses
|
| And to my afternoons I take fancy balloons
|
| And of my nights I make black paper roses
|
| And to my afternoons I take fancy balloons
|
| And of my nights I make black paper roses
|
| And to my afternoons I take fancy balloons
|
| And of my nights I make black paper roses
|
| And to my afternoons I take fancy balloons |