| They say that I don’t know love, I say yes I do They say they are counting love, I say I am too
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| They mark the years with rings like a tree they say
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| I count on smaller things, minutes, seconds, days
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| I wait for late afternoon and you
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| The industrious bunch through breakfast and lunch
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| I wait for it afternoon and you
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| The Monday sun softly paves by two
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| Though the book of the clerks thinking diligence works
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| For pension and perks out due
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| I wait for late afternoon and you
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| If we agree to meet at three
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| The concierge and I will see
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| The shades are drawn, the staff is skilled
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| Our lunch prepared, the champaign chilled
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| And if we skip the duck confit
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| Your arms and lips will reach for me These walls were meant to never speak
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| Of songs contempt within a week
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| So on this late afternoon with you
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| Other salesmen reserved all the rumors they’ve heard
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| That this fool may deserve a review
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| And still I wait and I wait for you
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| I wait for late afternoon and you |