| We said we would keep in touch
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| But we’re way out of reach
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| We stopped writing months ago
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| And we haven’t talked in weeks
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| But today I’m gonna call you
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| Just to prove that I still care
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| But I’m so afraid you’ll answer
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| That I hope you won’t be there
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| When I call we’ll catch up
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| First we’ll tell the news
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| Probably we’ll only detail them
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| Perhaps we’ll drop some clues
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| Somebody had a baby
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| Someone’s gone to jail
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| Something funny happened
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| And you forwarded my mail
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| I’ll ask you, «How have you been?»
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| And you’ll reply, «Okay.»
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| Then I’ll tell you I’m not too bad
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| Then there’s nothing left to say
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| Then there will be a silence
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| Like we were unwrapping gauze
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| Till someone says, «Are you still there?»
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| To end the Pinter pause
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| Finally we’ll hang up
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| Done with that go round
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| It’s always nice to hear you voice
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| But I will want to lie down
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| We said we would keep in touch
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| We’re way out of reach |