| You don’t have to ask me why
|
| Because I know you understand
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| All the treasures of my life
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| Are right here in my hand
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| Suspended in a moment
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| No more breath to catch
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| If you hold on to your end
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| Maybe we can make this last
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| This is the greatest time of day
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| When all the clocks are spinning backwards
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| And all the ropes that bind begin to fray
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| And all the black and white turns into colors
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| I don’t want to build a wall
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| Or draw a line across the sand
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| Because there’s room for one and all
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| And this land is our land
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| Oh, I hope this can go on and on and on
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| Before the skipping stone hits the surface of the pond
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| Oh, I know that life is never very long
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| One second, then one minute, and then it’s gone
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| This is the greatest time of day
|
| When all the clocks are spinning backwards
|
| And all the ropes that bind begin to fray
|
| And all the black and white turns into colors
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| You want to sink into the colors on the wall
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| But all the while, you are the brightest of them all
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| This is the greatest time of day
|
| When all the clocks are spinning backwards
|
| And all the ropes that bind begin to fray
|
| And all the black and white turns
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| This is the greatest time of day
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| When there’s no you and there’s no others
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| And all the rules grow wings and fly away
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| And all the black and white turns into colors |