| I lose track of minutes
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| I lose track of hours
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| Planting my spinach and cauliflower
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| In my backyard
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| Not so long ago
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| I watched time spin around on my wrist
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| But now time goes as slow or as fast
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| As the fish pulling on my line
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| Wildflowers grow
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| And I think they know
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| That their sons and daughters will appear here next year
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| Once again, they’ll be here next year, once again
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| I lose track of days
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| I lose track of weeks
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| Watering my potatoes and my leeks
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| From the creek
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| I watch the birds swoop down and catch
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| A fish or a worm as they wait for their eggs to hatch, to hatch
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| The redwoods grow so slow you never know
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| But then rings can tell us things w’d never know, nevr know
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| Oh yeah, rings can tell us things we’d never know
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| I lose track of months
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| I lose track of years
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| Harvesting my turnips
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| And oiling my gardening shears
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| There’s no time for love today
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| Too many things from above in the way
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| But I could have sworn that this was worth more
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| Than a sigh amidst a tornado
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| No more tears in my ears, lying awake
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| No more fears, restless years of heartache
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| But I could have sworn that this was worth more
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| Than a moonrock planted on the moon
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| But there’s no time for love tonight
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| One last hug and kiss goodnight |