| Home is where beds are made and butter is added to toast
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| On a cold afternoon you can float room to room like a ghost
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| Take the creche out and argue about who gets to set up the kings
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| And I know that it is home because that is where the stereo sings
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| I have got dreams, dreams to remember
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| But not even home will be with you forever
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| It is Christmastime and the plane flies me over white hills
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| To a town in a dream where the sky, it is frozen and still
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| And a room that is not mine but it is just like I left it before
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| With the wax from the candles all dusty and locks on the door
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| Where I held you so tenderly
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| And where in summer I opened your letter to me
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| Now I am standing where we knee-led and a miracle mile now borders it
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| But if I turn my face to the field I do not even notice it for a second
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| There is a tangle of greenery where winter scenery ends
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| And I hear that song sometimes and imagine us much more than friends
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| Like if we stayed in this town, bought the first house that went up on sale
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| And how each Christmastime would bring in-laws and snow days and holiday mail
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| Your dad says you are living in Georgia since last September
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| Yeah well I have got dreams, dreams to remember, I have got dreams,
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| dreams to remember
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| I have got dreams, dreams to remember, I have got dreams, dreams to remember
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| Oh Sara, come back to New Hampshire we will stay there forever |