| This cherry weather these sunlocked days we saw a Chalkhill Blue and a Queen of
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| Spain the changing of the hour brought winter ever closer we set ourselves
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| adrift we say goodbye to summer
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| Your elegant greys lit up amongst your bottle blond in the clay and snow
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| evening sky they won’t deter the suitors from the hook and the pull of your red
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| herring past an attraction far too strong for us mere six shooters fiddlers and
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| dancers
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| And you let it slip that every door is open every past is questioned loyalties
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| are lost this cherry weather the choices that we face with me a Chalkhill Blue
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| and you a Queen of Spain
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| The foreign ramblings on our broken down cliff cover suggest our frozen perch
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| has sheltered many others and I carve our initials but the curving of your S
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| causes all of the problems leaving words half said
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| And I let it slip that every door is open every past is questioned loyalties
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| are lost this cherry weather the choices that we face with me a Chalkhill Blue
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| and you a Queen of Spain
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| And here’s to the bar the bar where I proposed we fight our hosts upon their
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| return we upturn the tables a curse on their family name teach them all a
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| lesson with me a Chalkhill Blue and you a Queen of Spain
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| And in we slip and every past is open every door is questioned loyalties are
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| lost this cherry weather the choices that we face with me a Chalkhill Blue and
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| you a Queen of Spain
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| And in we slip and every past is open every door is questioned loyalties are
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| lost this cherry weather the choices that we face with me a Chalkhill Blue and
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| you a Queen of Spain |