| He told her when she played
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| Wings sprouted from her shoulder blades
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| And every bone inside her seemed to change
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| So on her fingers moved
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| Over notes she hoped would soothe
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| His jagged soul and caress every groove
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| Oh and how she longed to say
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| That she’d missed his troubled ways
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| Oh and if she could, she’d do it all again
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| Cause sometimes every word has been used
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| And there’s nothing left to do
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| But hold the one you can’t have in the sweet arms of a tune
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| A year ago today New York City seemed to fall away
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| To leave only the bed in which they laid
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| But an island is just there
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| Oh and when the world came flooding back
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| Oh the pillars underneath them began to crack
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| Now he’s sitting on her floor
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| She’s playing all the minor chords
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| Wishing so damn hard he’d kiss her like before
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| Sometimes every word has been used
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| And there’s nothing left to do
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| But hold the one you can’t have in the sweet arms of a tune
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| Yeah hold the one you can’t love in the sweet arms of a tune
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| Cos sometimes every inch of you is bruised
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| And there’s nothing left to prove
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| So just hold the one you can’t love in the sweet arms of a tune
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| Yeah hold the one you can’t love in the sweet arms of a tune |