| She can account for all of the men in her past
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| Where they are now
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| Who they married
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| How many kids they have
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| She knew their backgrounds
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| Family and friends
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| A few she even talks to now and then
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| But there is one she can’t put her finger on
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| There is one who never leaves her thoughts
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| And she thinks his name was John
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| A chance meeting
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| A party a few years back
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| Broad shoulders and blue eyes
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| His hair was so black
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| He was a friend of friend you could say
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| She let his smile just sweep her away
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| And in her heart
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| She knew that it was wrong
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| But too much wine
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| And she left his bed at dawn
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| And she thinks his name was John
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| Now each day is one day that’s left in her life
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| She won’t know love, have a marriage or sing lullabies
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| She lays all alone and cries herself to sleep
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| Because she let a stranger kill her hopes and her dreams
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| And all her friends say what a pity what a loss
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| And in the end when she was barely hanging on
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| All she could say was she thinks his name was John
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| And she thinks his name was John |