| Out with the golden we sew
|
| and the lower past that crawls.
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| Now, to the doorway you run
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| to the girl that’s not enough.
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| Shower’s looking, now we’re peeking over, I was lucky.
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| In the calm the feather flip the so, of harlot’s. |
| All the same.
|
| And I hope I’m still in love of course, just doesn’t listen.
|
| Now, in the passed them again.
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| In the dawn then we hurry.
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| So, I have gathered to bring
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| and I guess that it never.
|
| Shower’s looking, now we’re peeking over, I was lucky.
|
| In the calm the feather flip the so, of harlot’s. |
| All the same.
|
| And I hope I’m still in love of course, just doesn’t listen.
|
| You’ll be lucky once, when the fall listen to send around.
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| When the sun comes, dry tears from my eyes.
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| So you come around as the weather starts to change
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| and you settle in. And the best has yet been made. |