| There’s a wholeness in the half light
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| Of a new night when the day is done
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| And her soft skin has a warm glow
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| And I do know I’m the lucky one
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| In a small boat on a calm sea
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| I can only look in awe
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| At the grey cliffs and the seal pup
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| As it swims up to the shore
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| There’s an old pond in a tree’s shade
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| And a bed made from a pile of hay
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| And I lie there, 'til the words come
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| If they don’t come, I lie there anyway
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| Near the old docks, by the gasworks
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| Where the monsters pick up sticks
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| In the old house 'cross the main road
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| Corgi truck loads Lego bricks
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| These are the things I’ll remember
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| These are the moments I’ll treasure
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| These are the pictures I will paint myself
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| At the ringing of the bell
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| There are high hopes in a high chair
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| Sitting in there is a king to be
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| And he’s smiling his little heart out
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| As he holds out his little arms to me
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| And the long walks in the sunshine
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| And the red wine on my tongue
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| How the sand runs through my fingers
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| How it lingers til it’s gone
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| These are the things I’ll remember
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| These are the moments I’ll treasure
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| These are the pictures I will paint myself
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| At the ringing of the bell |