| All of these grateful looks, all these grateful eyes, all these furious stares,
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| these fretful sighs
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| Promising everything to everyone, «We'll be back soon, you’re my favorite one.»
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| «I'll keep it quiet,» «I'll hold you dear,» the whispering fills the ear
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| «Tell me you’ll stay, we would have such fun,» and the lie you don’t need anyone
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| The screams, the wails, and the calls, the headiness of the fall
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| Ten thousand miles from where we began, I fell asleep with a picture in hand
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| It was all for a woman
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| You say that you’re grateful for the time alone, two years away, «No,
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| I don’t miss home,»
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| Someone asks you if you ever think of her, and you smile politely and you demure
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| But then all at once your head starts to swim, you can feel her breath on your
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| skin
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| You find that you stare at the same spot for days, she’s above you,
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| below you in waves
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| And you’re shivering cold, like you’re just ten years old, she’s lying asleep
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| in your bed
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| You’re standing beside her, the light from inside her, filling up the darkness
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| in your head
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| It was all for a woman
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| And you’ve drowned in the teasing. |
| You’ve forgotten the reason, the muse
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| inspires the art
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| You’d give anything for her to say them once more, the words you believed at
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| the start
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| Ten thousand miles from where it began, falling asleep with her picture in hand
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| It was all for the look in her eye
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| For the promise and the lie
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| Of a woman |