| Momma cuts like a man-of-war
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| Through the fog of an early morning
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| With nothing more than a coffee filling up her sails
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| A couple sips and she says, I know
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| I can keep what I started going
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| She hears the clock tick, the wolf who loiters at the door
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| Daddy asleep in the bed he made the night before
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| And so she cuts through the morning like a man-of-war
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| Daddy burns like a meteor
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| Through a night of his own diversions
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| Hoping to blaze half a second of a glowing trail
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| Pours rum on his weary heart
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| Says, hey, I’m closer than when I started
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| He hears the clock tick, the wolf who loiters at the door
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| Momma tossing and turning through the coming storm
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| And so he burns through diversions like a meteor
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| Oh, there’s a lot to learn
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| One puts into port
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| Lowers a rowboat and grabs an oar
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| Singing, all ashore that’s going ashore
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| One falls back to earth
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| Leaves a crater on the bedroom floor
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| Singing, love, I know I promised more than this
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| Momma cuts through the morning like a man-of-war
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| Daddy burns through diversions like a meteor
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| And so they use another like a guiding star
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| And how I watch as they wonder where and what they are
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| I reflect like a troubadour
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| The ebb and flow of their hope and worry
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| In every verse of living, breathing fairy tale
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| As Momma rises and Daddy sets
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| Just like they have since the night I met them
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| I hear the clock tick, the wolf who loiters at the door
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| And whatever else they decide to fight about and for
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| As I reflect, hope, and worry like a troubadour
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| Oh, there’s a lot to learn
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| One puts into port
|
| Lowers a rowboat and grabs an oar
|
| Singing, all ashore that’s going ashore
|
| One falls back to earth
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| Leaves a crater on the bedroom floor
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| Singing, love, I don’t need any more than this |