| Oh the sun is gazing down on me
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| And the day it is a dawning
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| The sea is washing pebbles o’er the sand
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| In the early hours of the morning
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| My eyes are still half closed with sleep
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| My mind still clouded with dreaming
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| And the ripple of the wave seems a ghost upon the sea
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| In the early hours of the morning
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| The breeze it cast it’s spell on me
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| I can’t answer all the things it’s asking
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| And I wonder where it’s going to
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| And where it’s coming from
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| In the early hours of the morning
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| The mist is dangling darkly o’er the tide
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| Far out upon the ocean it’s hiding
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| All the secrets of the sea from the crying eyes of men
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| In the early hours of the morning
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| I walked to the top of the highest hill
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| And as I climbed I was thinking
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| And wondering if you’ll be coming back to me.
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| In the early hours of the morning |