| Well, I sang in your morning, I sang in your night
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| Dusty old travels and forty watt lights
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| But lovin' to you was like the sand in the river
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| You call me 'my darling' and I call you 'Indian giver'
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| With a blanket of sorrow I lie in my bed
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| Four walls are a prison when your heart’s in your head
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| Your soul is an icebox when you go where you’re led
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| With a blanket of sorrow I die in your bed
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| Well, now daylight is here, the morning is come
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| But a blanket of sorrow still covers the sun
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| Night isn’t over, it’s still dark outside
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| Black blanket death now is nowhere to hide
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| With a blanket of sorrow I lie in my bed
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| Four walls are a prison when your heart’s in your head
|
| Your soul is an icebox when you go where you’re led
|
| With a blanket of sorrow I die in your bed
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| With a blanket of sorrow I lay in your arms
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| But nothing will come of this pain
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| I’m sorry, they told me, it’s been felt before
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| And probably will be again
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| With a blanket of sorrow I lie in my bed
|
| Four walls are a prison when your heart’s in your head
|
| Your soul is an icebox when you go where you’re led
|
| With a blanket of sorrow I die in your bed |