| Clear dew through the windows of my mother’s kitchen
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| Moss in the cracks of the shingles on the neighbor’s roof
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| Coals in the fireplace still black and damp
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| And the kettle moves over kerosene flames
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| And its copper sings its misty warning
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| So begins this bergamot morning
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| Cat calls for his morning milk
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| He cleans his paws on old growth floorboards
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| Begin to spin and imagine something where the garden was
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| Silver bark and yellow leaves replaced by cold steel
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| And the copper sings its misty warning
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| So begins this bergamot morning
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| Birds sing in the ferns in the quiet glowing fog
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| Last night is gone renewed by her new dawn
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| And the copper sings its misty warning
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| Brings me back to this bergamot morning
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| Yesterday’s sorrow, its misty warning
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| Gives way to a glistening bergamot morning |