| In the morning it felt like the world had stopped
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| And clenched like a giant fist up tight
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| But then you noticed the dust still dropped
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| And danced through the bedroom window light
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| It’s the woodsmoke smell of winter
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| It’s the sad things that you’ll miss
|
| Like the woodsmoke smell of winter
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| And the sad things like this
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| Let it all come down like fog on a cold field
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| Let it all come down like frost on the lawn
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| Let it all come down like leaves in a teacup
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| Let it all come down like trees in a storm
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| There’ll be cars on the street soon enough
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| And someone will come and collect the bins
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| Everyone will return to their everyday stuff
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| And you’ll sleep through the mess that you’re in
|
| It’s the woodsmoke smell of winter
|
| It’s the sad things that you’ll miss
|
| Like the woodsmoke smell of winter
|
| And the sad things like this
|
| Let it all come down like fog on a cold field
|
| Let it all come down like frost on the lawn
|
| Let it all come down like leaves in a teacup
|
| Let it all come down like trees in a storm
|
| Let it all come down like sleep on your eyelids
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| Let it all come down softly as snow onto snow
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| Let it all come down seeing the river below you
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| Let it all come down feeling your fingers let go
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| It’s the woodsmoke smell of winter |