| Dear Aunt Alice,
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| Why should I marry him?
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| My heart’s young; |
| I keep it free.
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| Oh, Aunt Alice,
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| There’s always time enough;
|
| Then she smiled, and took my hand,
|
| And she said to me:
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| When I was just a young thing,
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| I can recall,
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| I dreamt of seeing Paris in fall,
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| And London in the springtime;
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| Oh, I’d see it all;
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| I’d see it all someday.
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| For I had,
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| Plenty of time,
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| Plenty of time;
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| Why should I worry?
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| Yes, I had,
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| Plenty of time,
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| Plenty of time;
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| What was the hurry?
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| When I was still a young thing,
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| Love was for fun,
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| Kisses and laughter, then it was done.
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| Yes, when the game was over,
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| Swiftly I’d run;
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| Oh, how I’d run away.
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| For I had,
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| Plenty of time,
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| Plenty of time;
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| Why should I worry?
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| Yes, I had,
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| Plenty of time,
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| Plenty of time;
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| What was the hurry?
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| But a world that’s right can soon go wrong;
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| And I guess I waited much too long;
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| For I’ve never been to Paris,
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| Or to London in the spring;
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| And that love that I, I intended to choose,
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| The years just refused to bring.
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| And now it suddenly seems
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| That I’ve run out of dreams
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| I can hold on to.
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| Once I had,
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| Plenty of time,
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| Oh, plenty of time;
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| Where has it gone to?
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| Dear Aunt Alice,
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| I think I’ll marry him,
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| All too soon, it’s all too late.
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| Yes, Aunt Alice,
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| There’s never time enough.
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| Let me hold my love today,
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| And let tomorrow wait. |