| I would have showed you the world as it was in my dreams. |
| I would have dropped
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| everything.
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| And for those nights when we wept for the moon, I would have died for the
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| spring.
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| I found myself at the roots of the elms, singing songs to the birds and wishing
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| this day would never end.
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| But it did.
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| These dreams came cascading down in a stream of fond memories and lost hope,
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| and at the end of it all.
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| At the end of it all is only a teardrop to remember you by.
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| A keepsake from the birds, an elegy for what we could have shared.
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| These words will last forever;
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| I’ll dream our memories away just to make you feel something for me again.
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| These words will last forever;
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| I’ll dream our memories away just to make you hurt. |
| Just to make you feel my
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| pain.
|
| There is a warmth from the earth, and the touch of my fingertips are like
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| droplets, making ripples on the surface.
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| I cherish the moment my heart sank to the floor of the ocean.
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| We could have been so much more,
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| We could have laughed, and cried, and dreamed our nights away.
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| So much more, So much more.
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| I’ll keep singing songs to the birds until you return, and for every time I
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| lost myself there is a warmth from the earth, and the touch of my fingertips
|
| are like droplets, making ripples on the surface.
|
| At the end of it all is only a teardrop to remember you by.
|
| A keepsake from the birds, an elegy for what we could have shared.
|
| These words will last forever;
|
| I’ll dream our memories away just to make you feel something for me again.
|
| These words will last forever;
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| I’ll dream our memories away just to make you hurt. |
| Just to make you feel my
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| pain. |