| She looks like you in every way
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| And I love her more with each passing day
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| But that doesn’t mean, I don’t miss you
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| Miss the way she cries
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| Miss you
|
| Miss those wavy eyes
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| Miss you
|
| Miss her tender sighs
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| But that doesn’t mean, I don’t miss you
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| She reminds me of the morning
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| When you left me without warning
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| But that doesn’t mean, I don’t miss you
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| Whenever I’m holding her near
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| I seem to sense your present’s here
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| I even get the feeling that I could reach out and touch your hand
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| She waits each morning, smiling bright
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| She takes my hand and she’ll squeeze it tight
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| But that doesn’t mean, I don’t miss you
|
| Miss the way she cries
|
| Miss you
|
| Miss those wavy eyes
|
| I could still remember that stifling antiseptic smell
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| Of the hospital corridor
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| As you clutched my hand and hurried down the hall
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| I think you knew as you looked up at me
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| That we would never see each other again
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| And I felt so all alone as they wheeled you out the doors and told me to wait
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| And then there was a cry
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| And the doctor came out and showed me our baby girl
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| You never saw her sweetheart
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| But she must of known you somewhere
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| Because she looks, and acts, and talks the way I remember you
|
| But that doesn’t mean, I don’t miss you
|
| Miss the way she cries
|
| Miss you
|
| Miss those wavy eyes
|
| Miss you
|
| Miss her tender sighs |