| Where in the world did you come from my dear?
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| Did some mysterious voice tell you I’d still be here?
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| I bought this ticket to Mobile, but I been stranded all day… p.a.
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| said the bus broke down ten miles away from the station.
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| So seldom a door… so seldom a key… so seldom a lock like the
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| love between you and me. |
| But seldom comes happiness without the
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| pain of the devil in the details since I saw the smile on your
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| face as I was crying in a Greyhound station on Christmas Day… in 1998.
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| The burden of love is the fuel of bad grammar.
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| You stutter and stammer--what a bitch to convey the crux of the
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| matter, when the words you must utter are hopelessly tangled in the memories and scars you show no one. |
| So seldom a door…
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| so seldom a key… so seldom a hit like the hurt you put on me.
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| But seldom comes happiness without the pain of the devil in the
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| details since I saw the smile on your face as I was crying in a Greyhound station on Christmas Day… in 1998. I remember quite clearly,
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| a bad Muzak version of James Taylor’s big hit, called «Fire and Rain»
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| was playing as you crouched down and tearfully kissed me, and I thought,
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| «Damn, what good fiction I will mold from this terrible pain.»
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| So seldom a door… so seldom a key… so seldom a gift like the gift you gave me.
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| But seldom comes happiness without the pain of the devil in the details since
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| I saw the smile on your face as I was crying in a Greyhound station on Christmas Day… in 1998. Amazing grace, how sweet the smile upon the face
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| I never thought I’d see you again… especially here in this Greyhound station…
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| on Christmas Day… in 1998 |