| Meet me on the Spanish steps oh you will not wait long
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| Near the place where we first met it was on the streets of Rome
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| You were young and your eyes were bright your cheeks were flush and fair
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| We were eye to eye on the Spanish steps I can see you standin there
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| When I was sailing the Portland coast your face came back to me
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| It became so real it was never a memory
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| A friend once asked would I send a word to the one in the long blue skirt
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| I didn’t want to lose you I didn’t know what one was worth
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| Later on we met again and we drank by the Oslo docks
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| The fire of art shot from your hands spillin freely from your heart
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| More than a smell of a memory and more than a love by choice
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| The thing that I remember best was the beauty in your voice
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| So now it’s you and I my love and the two you bore for me
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| I love you for your strength that you carry so quietly
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| So let us hold our glasses high and keep our voices hid
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| And take me down on this summer’s eve beneath the birches now
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| Meet me on the Spanish steps oh you will not wait long
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| Near the place where we first met it was on the streets of Rome
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| You were young and your eyes were bright your cheeks were flush and fair
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| We were eye to eye on the Spanish steps I can see you smilin there
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| I still see you smilin there |