| As the cafe was closing on a warm summer night
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| And Cathy was cleaning the spoons
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| The radio played the «Hit Parade»
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| And I hummed along with the tune
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| She asked me to change the station
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| Said the song just drove her insane
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| But it weren’t just the music playing
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| It was me she was trying to blame
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| And the sky is black and still now
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| On the hill where the angels sing
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| Ain’t it funny how an old broken bottle
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| Looks just like a diamond ring?
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| But it’s far, far from me
|
| Well, I leaned on my left leg in the parking lot dirt
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| And Cathy was closing the lights
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| A junebug flew from the warmth he once knew
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| And I wished for once I weren’t right
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| Why, we used to laugh together
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| And we’d dance to any old song
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| Well, ya know, she still laughs with me
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| But she waits just a second too long
|
| And the sky is black and still now
|
| On the hill where the angels sing
|
| Ain’t it funny how an old broken bottle
|
| Looks just like a diamond ring?
|
| But it’s far, far from me
|
| Well, I started the engine and I gave it some gas
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| And Cathy was closing her purse
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| Well, we hadn’t gone far in my beat-up old car
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| And I was prepared for the worst
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| «Will you still see me tomorrow?»
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| «No, I got too much to do.»
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| Well, a question ain’t really a question
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| If you know the answer too
|
| And the sky is black and still now
|
| On the hill where the angels sing
|
| Ain’t it funny how an old broken bottle
|
| Looks just like a diamond ring?
|
| But it’s far, far from me |