| Ever again the morning creeps across your shoulders
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| Through he frosted window pane the sun grows bolder
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| Your hair flows down your pillow, you’re still sleeping
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| I think I’ll wake you now and hold you
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| Tell you again the things I’ve told you
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| Behold I give you the morning
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| I give you the day
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| Through the waving curtain wall the sun comes streaming
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| Far behind your flickering eyelids, you’re still dreaming
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| You’re dreaming of the good times, and you’re smiling
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| I think I’ll wake you now and hold you
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| Tell you again the things I’ve told you
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| Behold I give you the morning
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| I give you the day
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| Close beneath the window cill the earth is humming
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| Like an eager Christmas child, the day is coming
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| Listen to the morning’s song, it’s singing
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| I think I’ll wake you now and hold you
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| Tell you again the things I’ve told you
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| Behold I give you the morning
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| I give you the day
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| Like an antique ballroom fan your eyelids flutter
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| Sunlight streams across your eyes, trough open shutters
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| Now I think you’re ready for the journey |
| I think I’ll wake you now and hold you
|
| Tell you again the things I’ve told you
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| Behold I give you the morning
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| I give you the day |