| Oh, I think you’re lost to me
|
| Just a stranger I will never see
|
| I drove away and I walked out that door
|
| But you had left us long before
|
| The year we spent there was strange and slow
|
| Like all the cars in that rare southern snow
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| We ventured out without a plan or fear
|
| Probably not a great idea
|
| It’s not about the things I wanted then
|
| I’ve come to see now that I couldn’t have used them
|
| All the same it’s true that even now
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| I’d like to talk to you somehow
|
| I’d want to find out if you’ve heard that song
|
| I’d want to tell you mine are coming along
|
| Your family’s well and healthy I suppose
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| I’m really curious to know
|
| In the dimness of those last days gloom
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| While I was packing up the spare bedroom
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| You came and offered me a solemn word
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| About a voice you’d often heard
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| It was a moment when I saw inside
|
| A little break from all that stoic pride
|
| Do I think now that this would ring a bell
|
| You know I couldn’t even tell you
|
| Oh, my friend, you’re lost to me
|
| Another a stranger I will never see
|
| Oh, my friend, you’re lost to me
|
| Another a stranger I will never see |