| I’d race to meet you at the top of the stairs
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| You’d come from working, you were always there for me
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| You’d scare the nightmares, singing me an old song
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| You’d learn in Oshkosh, you were always there for me
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| But what was it like to be you?
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| You said, I could never see what passing judgment
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| On anybody else would ever do for me
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| But I love that you see the things that you couldn’t see
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| You showed me how to live
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| My dance recitals, they were never concise
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| You never missed one, you were always there for me
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| You told me softly that I had what it takes
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| To make it anywhere, you were always there for me
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| Well, what was it like to be you?
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| You said, I could never see what passing judgment
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| On anybody else would ever do for me
|
| But I love how you see the things that you couldn’t see
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| You showed me how to die
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| What was it like to be you?
|
| You said, I could never see what passing judgment
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| On anybody else would ever do for me
|
| Well, I love how you see the things that you couldn’t see
|
| You showed me how to see
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| And what to look for in a man
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| And what to look for in a man
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| And what to look for in a man
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| I’d race to meet you at the top of the stairs
|
| You’d come from working, you were always there for me |