| You throw down the blanket, say, «let's sit here for a while, I’ll find a way
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| to open this wine,»
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| The fishermen are silhouetted by the almond moon, the pendulum above,
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| the absence of time,
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| And the ink black sea gurgled around you and me, I remember it because we were
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| lagooned,
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| Then you hand me the guitar and I say, «look I’ve really nothing to play,»
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| The greyhound clouds race across the sky and you say, «just play the music of
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| the moon, the music of the moon…»
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| I wondered where you came from as I rose in your arms from deep deep sleep
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| today,
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| if love is measured by the kissing of your eyelids then I should kiss them
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| every day, and I mean EVERY day.
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| And the ink black sea closed in around you and me,
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| And the ink black sea closed in around you and me,
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| And the ink black sea closed in around you and me, I remember it,
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| Because we were lagooned
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| So hand me the guitar, I say, «there's something that I must play,»
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| The greyhound clouds race across the sky and we spend hours and hours and hours
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| just playing the music of the moon, the music of the moon…
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| You throw down the blanket, say, «let's sit here for a while, I’ll find a way
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| to open this wine,»
|
| The fishermen are silhouetted by the almond moon, the pendulum above,
|
| the absence of time… |