| This red-haired girl of mine tore a pinecone from the pine
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| To cut into her palm, singing the song her sinking lover sung
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| I shut my eyes, ripped the train from off the line
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| But a sudden gust of snow blew through a hole in my girl’s clothes
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| Well, my girl knows she’s not all right
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| And I don’t mind
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| Just give me time, baby, give me time
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| Her stinging eyes, and her sixteen-hour drive, and our shared, transparent rope
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| And our icy dive through hope I’ll memorize, and I’ll cut into my mind
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| I can’t believe it can be so
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| I won’t believe that my girl froze
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| Well, my girl knows I’m coiled tight and green inside
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| Just give me time, baby, give me time
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| And that weight you hold, it’s getting light
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| And, love, I know you’ll raise it easily up high
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| Just give it time, just give it time
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| Oh baby, just give it time |