| And who is this man standing at my door?
|
| Is he lying or is he true?
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| Is this how I see you?
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| Like a rolling pebble on the deepest ocean floor
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| Life has rubbed me smooth
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| But you cup me in your hands
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| And you roll me in your pocket
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| How many men, unhappy, crammed inside their skin
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| Wordless to explain, stand at someone’s door?
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| Am I too old for this?
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| Is there kindness in his face?
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| A good man or a weak man?
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| There are horses in the room pulling me through fences
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| I throw the window open
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| And the light hits the pavement
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| Come in, come in, whoever you are
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| I will know you, if only from afar
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| Once I saw a dry dock
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| And the rustling hulks of ships and trawlers
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| With a wind that could cut steel
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| It was so cold
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| And I don’t have to think that hard
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| And it all comes flooding back
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| There is so much that neither of us will ever know
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| Come in, come in, whoever you are
|
| I will know you, if only from afar |