| A blackened wick is what remains
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| The flame was blown out just recently
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| Although the candle hadn’t burned down to the stick
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| It won’t be lit again, the day won’t be quite as bright
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| We don’t know what she may have been
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| All we know is what she left behind
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| An apartment cluttered with children’s toys
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| Photos of good times
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| In the bedroom, there’s sheets on the windows
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| There’s a four poster bed for a reason
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| There’s a box on the floor full of secrets
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| It won’t be opened
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| Here older boys and girls would play
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| All inhibitions were left behind
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| As the door would close, her face began to shine
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| This was her finest hour, this was her finest time
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| Now, she’s gone, and it’s not gonna be alright, not for me
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| She’s gone, but not forgotten, she’s still here
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| In all those years she touched so many lives
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| Who’s gonna watch the little girl she left behind?
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| Carol Anne stands alone in the school yard
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| All the other children have gone
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| After waiting for hours
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| She can’t understand why her mother left her sad
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| In the darkness she sees definition
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| In the silence, she hears someone calling
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| After nightmares, she lies in bed screaming
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| But there’s no reaction
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| There’s no one listening, there’s no one
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| Now, she’s gone, and it’s never gonna be alright, not for me
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| She’s gone |