| I met her at lover’s park
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| One rainy April Monday
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| Smiling soft and warm as on
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| A clear December Sunday
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| Wearing taffeta and lace
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| That matched her braided hair
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| With their coraled beads that sang to me
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| She said «hi» and asked me why
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| Was I looking with sorrow
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| When there were much brighter days
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| In store for me tomorrow
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| I looked up at her and smiled
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| And said, why I don’t know
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| But would she agree, to stay with me
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| And she said
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| Never in your sun, she said
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| Never in your sun, then she said
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| I will only come
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| In your pouring rain to relieve the pain
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| So if you are at lover’s park
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| And someone looks with sorrow
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| Ask them why are they so sad
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| When sunshine’s theirs tomorrow
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| They’ll reply they don’t know why
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| And ask you please to stay
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| Until the end of time, and when they’re fine
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| Be kind and say
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| Never in your sun, just tell them
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| Never in your sun, then say
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| I will only come
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| In your pouring rain, to relieve the pain, never, ever
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| Never in your sun, never in your sun, believe that
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| I will only come
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| In your pouring rain to relieve the pain |