| Waiting
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| And the days they speak to me with all their history
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| Little ways passing phases all so consistently
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| As the gazes reached for me with that intensity
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| Through this maze of misled praise the words get into me
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| Staring at faces of our times to reconcile
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| There’s always patience waiting for a place in our minds
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| And in that autumn you’ll find every orphan will lose their need
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| To pine reassure them the world before them staring at faces
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| Change
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| 'Cause words alone will soon dissolve
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| And leave us with a face we can’t console
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| In the zone conscious of tones
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| We can’t resolve
|
| Staring at faces of our times to reconcile
|
| There’s always patience waiting for a place in our minds
|
| And in that autumn you’ll find every orphan will lose their need
|
| To pine reassure them the world before them staring at faces |