| Please don’t cry
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| the ghost and the storm outside
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| will not invade this sacred shire
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| nor infiltrate your mind
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| my life down I shall lie
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| if the bogey-man should try
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| to play tricks on your sacred mind
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| to tease, torment and tantalise
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| wavering shadows loom
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| a piano plays in an empty room
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| there’ll be blood on the cleaver tonight
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| when darkness lifts and the room is bright
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| I’ll still be by your side
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| for you are all that matters
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| and I’ll love you till the day I die
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| there never need to be longing in your eyes
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| as long as the hand that rocks the cradle is mine
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| ceiling shadows shimmy by
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| and when the wardrobe towers like a beast of prey
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| there’s a sadness in your beautiful eyes
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| you’re untouched, unsoiled, wonderous eyes
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| my life down I shall lie
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| should restless spirts try
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| to play tricks on you sacred mind
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| but whom I never gave a name
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| I just looked into his wonderous eyes
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| and said never never never again
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| all too soon I did return
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| just like a moth to a flame
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| so rattle my bones all over the stones
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| because I’m only a beggar-man whom nobody owns
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| see how words as old as sin
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| fit me like a glove I’m here and here I’ll stay
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| together we lie, together we pray
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| there never need be longing in your eyes
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| as long as the hand that rocks the cradle is mine |