| The road is long and slow
|
| The clouds are hanging low
|
| About the shoulders of the hills
|
| Where the shadow kills the light
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| Your face and hands are cold
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| And if I may make so bold
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| You could be made of marble, dear
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| That’s just what I fear
|
| The stars are out tonight
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| The stillness of the light
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| The weight of shadows cast
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| Like pieces of the past
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| I’ve been told
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| That when our bones are old
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| The sea will rush this place
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| And wipe it clean
|
| Listen to me this time
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| The city sand and lime
|
| And skylarks long have left it’s streets
|
| Where the darkness meets
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| The cold and empty lanes
|
| Carried home in trains
|
| The beery and the sore
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| The drunken and the poor
|
| When was the last time you sang
|
| Along with the bells as they rang
|
| And people didn’t stop to stare?
|
| Even if I could reconcile
|
| The two of us for a quarter mile
|
| I’m not convinced it would be
|
| A good reason for us to depart
|
| The highway, go back to the start
|
| The longest road stretched below
|
| Where the darkness meets
|
| The river as it bends
|
| Through the shadow wends
|
| It’s way to unquiet seas
|
| And when you feel the breeze, at last
|
| When was the last time you sang
|
| Along with the bells as they rang? |