| So, so long ago and so far away
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| When time was just a line that you fed me when you wanted to stay
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| We’d talk as soft as chalk till morning came, pale as a pearl
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| No time, no time, mow, I have got all the time in the world
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| Say, honey, did you belong to me?
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| Tell me, honey, was your heart at rest when, darlin'
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| All the mourning doves were howling us
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| A song of love’s oh god-awful lawlessness? |
| Lawlessness
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| Say, honey, did you belong to me?
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| Tell me, honey, did I pass your test?
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| I lay, as still as death, until the dawn
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| Whereupon I wrested from your god-awful lawlessness, lawlessness
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| I roam around the tidy grounds of my dappled sanatorium
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| Coatless, I sit amongst the motes, adrift, and I dote upon my pinesap gum
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| And the light, through the pines in brassy tones lays over me, dim as rum
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| And thick as molasses, and so time passes, and so, my heart, tomorrow comes
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| I feel you leaning out back with the crickets
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| Loyal heart marking the soon-ness
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| Darkness, tonight, still the mourning doves will summon us
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| Their song of love’s neverdoneing lawlessness, lawlessness
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| While, over and over, rear up, stand down, lay round
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| Trying to sound-out, or guess the reasons
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| I sleep like a soldier, without rest
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| But there is no treason, where there is only lawlessness, lawlessness
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| In the last week of the last year, I was aware
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| I took a blind shot, across the creek at the black bear
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| When he roused me in the night and left me cowering with my light, calling out
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| «Who is there? |
| Who’s there?
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| Who is there?»
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| I watched you sleep, repeating my prayer
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| You give love a little shove and it becomes terror
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| And now I am calling in a sadness beyond anger and beyond fear
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| «Who is there? |
| Who’s there?
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| Who is there?»
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| I glare and nod like the character God bearing down upon the houses and lawns
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| I knew a little bit, but, darling, you were it and, darling, now it is long gone
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| Sweetheart, in your clean, bright start back there, behind a hill, and a dell
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| And a state line or two, I’ll be thinking of you, yes, I’ll be thinking and be
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| wishing you well
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| We land, I stand but I wait for the sound of the bell
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| I have to catch a cab and my bags are at the carousel
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| And then, Lord, just then time alone will only tell, you mourning dove |