| Yesterday’s newspapers forecast no rain for today
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| But yesterday’s news is old news, the skies are all grey
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| Winter’s in labour, soon to give birth to the spring
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| That will sprinkle the meadow with flowers for my Angeline
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| Heartache and sorrow and sadness unendingly find
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| Wings on a memory and with them she flies to my mind
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| She stretched her arms for a moment then went back to sleep
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| While the morning stood watching me, ever so silently weak
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| She opened her eyes, Lord, the minute my feet touched the floor
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| The cold hard wood creaked with each step that I made to the door
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| There I turned to her gently and said, Look, Hon, it’s spring"
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| Knowing outside the window the winter looked for Angeline
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| Yesterday’s newspapers forecast no rain for today
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| But yesterday’s news is old news, the skies are all grey…
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| Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
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| Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
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| Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
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| Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm |