| The paint is old and peeling
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| The shutters show some cracks
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| There’s a heavy limb on the apple tree
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| That’s got to be cut back
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| There’s some water in the cellar
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| A little sagging in the floor
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| But this house has weathered many storms
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| It will weather many more
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| 'cause I scraped away the peeling paint
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| And found the wood was good and strong
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| And I found a firm foundation
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| Had been there all along
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| There’s nothing here that a little work
|
| And time can’t heal
|
| 'cause everything underneath is real
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| Nerves are frayed and ragged
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| Patience is wearing thin
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| Words were said in fits of rage
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| That never should have been
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| We bruised each other badly
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| Lost respect along the way
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| But there’s too much here worth saving
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| To throw it all away
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| Can’t we lay aside our fear and pride
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| And find the good within
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| All that we have shared before
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| Can be restored again
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| There’s nothing here that a little work
|
| And time can’t heal
|
| 'cause everything underneath is real |