| He saw a lonely girl
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| She saw a lonely world
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| It was a canvas, slyly careless
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| A Florestan lieder
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| And his was a dying breed
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| And courage came only from his symphonies
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| A decorative smile to fade out
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| His concerto in A
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| Come on
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| A second chance at love
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| The moments dead
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| Make you feel like it’s never staying
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| Made love to a baby grand
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| A tempest refined inside his hands
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| He had one girl and one song
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| Bona fide wine and roulade
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| But he had to give it up
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| His heart was raw but his fingers numb
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| His first words were his last words
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| An aesthete since first sun
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| Come on
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| A second chance at love
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| The moments slept
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| Make you feel like it’s never staying
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| And it burned
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| The first attempt or two
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| But I remembered you
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| I, I need that moment back
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| Please don’t, don’t don’t
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| A tremor for death
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| Ivories that sliced sedatives in half
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| Relief in the Rhine
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| Washed away regrets
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| And let him char before he
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| Caressed the ground
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| Dear artist you will rise again
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| A last arabesque in faint fashion
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| Come on
|
| A second change at love
|
| The moments dead
|
| Make you feel like it’s never ending
|
| And it burned
|
| The first attempt or two
|
| But I remembered you
|
| I need that moment back
|
| Please don’t, don’t forget
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| He woke
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| A final view of blue
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| Dear cordias wet rouge
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| Relieve romance to graves
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| Please, please don’t forget |