| Standing in the shadow
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| Of a Spanish lady
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| Second hand bargain
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| With a song so sad
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| And a rose in her hand
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| Was crying
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| Lonely rooms in back of bars
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| Bright lights and sitting out in the stars
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| There was room to write a poem
|
| But the words don’t come easy
|
| They’re hung on frozen lips standing there
|
| While the world’s anticipating love
|
| And the words don’t come easy
|
| Lady laughs a laughing tear and says
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| All we really need today
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| Is the sun in our life
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| The sun in our life
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| Money was only mean to buy time
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| No money left over
|
| Made the street to show that the door was open
|
| Out in the silence of the angry crowd
|
| Only the beggars crying aloud
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| Not a precious thing was spoken
|
| But the words don’t come easy
|
| They’re hung on frozen lips standing there
|
| While the world’s anticipating love
|
| And the words don’t come easy
|
| Lady laughs a laughing tear and says
|
| All we really need today
|
| Is the sun in our life
|
| The sun in our life |