| I need to start this off by letting you know that this isn’t my story to tell
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| And from this point on the words I speak are from the mouth of somebody else
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| It was pineapple of the Friday nights spent in the living room in
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| Of the house I grew up in
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| But I could tell with every call on my mother’s phone
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| That something was different
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| And then she told me what happened
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| They had to break into
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| The door through her living room
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| ‘Cause she lived alone
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| When she had the stroke
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| And she had been on the hardwood floor for days
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| Before anybody got through the door and
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| She had just turned 75
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| Which is still too young to have to fight for life
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| And before long, before the stroke
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| There was no sign
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| That this was the way that it would go
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| Although her body was aging
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| Her heart was younger than most of the family’s
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| That’s why this was such a surprise
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| But we know who wins the fight between body and mind
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| I thought, «this can’t be possible»
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| On the way to the hospital
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| ‘Cause if I had known that she had a stroke
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| Maybe I could’ve called and stopped it all
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| I could’ve come by, and said hello
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| Instead I had no clue
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| Of the things she was going through
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| And as I sat at home
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| She tried to grab the phone
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| But her body couldn’t handle the way
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| She picked herself up
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| But then her legs were shaking
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| She pulled the phone cord
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| Clean out of the wall
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| As I sat beside the hospital bed
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| And I wondered all the things
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| That went through your head
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| Cold and alone
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| With the screen door open
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| And no salvation in sight
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| And for four days
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| You fought through the night
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| As everybody carried on
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| With their lives
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| The neighbours were outside
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| And the mailman came to the door
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| But with valient attempts to create noise
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| You were failed by your weak voice
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| And where was I
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| As the sun rose and sun set
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| If there ever was a time
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| That you needed God
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| It was then
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| And I can’t
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| Begin to imagine
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| The hopelessness
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| Turn on the light
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| Turn on the light
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| Don’t give up the fight
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| Give up the fight
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| Turn on the light
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| Turn on the light
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| This can’t be right
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| This can’t be right |