| Gently tender falls the rain,
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| washing clean the slate again;
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| But leave me please, behind my brain,
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| this light doesn’t shadow on her
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| Shadows dancing through
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| the pink milk blankets,
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| where my mind
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| Lay dreaming gently of my loving you.
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| Sometimes I think I was true, but then I loved the
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| stone beneath my feet as much, usually.
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| Gently tender snow-drop grows,
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| see the past tense quietly go.
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| Kill the chord but let me know this light
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| doesn’t shadow on her.
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| Shadows crawling through the green bush trees
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| where my toes crept
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| Breathing lightly of my loving you.
|
| Sometimes I think I was true, but then I loved the
|
| stone beneath my feet as much, usually.
|
| Slowly spitting crawls the snake,
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| see the branches bend and break.
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| Venom that might easily shake
|
| this light doesn’t shadow on her.
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| Good, good loving, she gave me good loving, good,
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| good, loving, she gave me good loving,
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| Good, good loving, she gave me good.
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| And now all my wine is water,
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| to her all my wine is water,
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| All water, and my pearls are clear.
|
| And now all my wine is water,
|
| to her all my wine is water.
|
| All water, and my pearls are clear.
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| She gave to me good loving,
|
| she gave to me good loving,
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| Oohhhhhhh good loving. |