| Look at those dancers gliding around.
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| Seems as is their feet
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| Don’t hardly touch the ground.
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| Look at them smiling
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| Like they knew one another
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| And they never would come down.
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| Turn around, and hold me.
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| I’d like to see your face alone.
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| I’m hoping there’s someone home.
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| I’d like to meet you, who do you see?
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| Introduce yourself to whichever of me is nearby.
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| Close behind your eyes you’re laughing at me,
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| And I’m stuck with no instructions that I can see
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| To steer by.
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| Stick around, it’s tricky ground.
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| I’d like to see your face alone.
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| I’m hoping there’s someone home.
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| Two or three people fading in and out,
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| Like a radio station that I’m thinking about
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| But I can’t hear.
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| Who gets breakfast? |
| Who gets the lunch?
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| Who gets to be the boss of this bunch?
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| Who will steer?
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| Turning, turning, to see your face alone.
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| I’m hoping there’s someone home.
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| Dream, do you dream,
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| Dreaming, do you?
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| In my dreams I can see I can.
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| I can see a love that could be.
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| Crosby, Stills, Nash — Vocals
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| David Crosby — Acoustic Guitar
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| Stephen Stills — Acoustic Guitar
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| Russ Kunkel — Drums
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| Joe Vitale — Vibes |