| Turn off the lights, I’ll pull down the screen
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| And turn on the projector and then we’ll see
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| How it used to be, you and me
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| You in your striped shirt and desert boots
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| I’m in my blue dress and cardigan
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| Funny how it comes back again
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| As we open the box and another appears
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| We look at ourselves in a long row of mirrors
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| We get smaller and smaller with each passing year
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| We have to keep moving or die
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| Turn up the volume on the stereo
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| Let’s spin it round like so long ago
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| Like when we kissed. |
| And it goes like this
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| As we open the box and the music we hear
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| We look at ourselves and our long trail of tears
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| We get younger and younger with each passing year
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| We have to keep moving or die
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| As we open the box and another appears
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| We look at ourselves in a long row of mirrors
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| We get smaller and smaller with each passing year
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| We have to keep moving or die
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| We wax and we wane as we hold on to time
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| Of our halcyon days, we were able to find
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| We watch it today but please put it way
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| 'Cause we have to keep moving or die
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| We have to keep moving, we have to keep moving
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| We have to keep moving or die |