| Saturday, my reflections on Saturday…
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| the kindest words you could offer
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| were crueller still than the sea.
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| Eternity, it would take 'til eternity
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| to flood the darkness between us.
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| We’d still be light years apart.
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| Second hand, you won’t always be second hand
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| if you place your trust in a sad song
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| and chain your heart to its bars.
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| I’m talking about a time when I thought so much of you, talking about a time
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| when I had your touch.
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| And I know it’s not done, but I will be
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| waiting here eternally
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| 'til you find the time.
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| Silent film, are you living a silent film?
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| — all sepia stained and neglected.
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| The past is no place to hide.
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| Saturday, reflections on Saturday…
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| the years that crept by your window,
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| the fears that slipped through the door.
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| I’m talking about a time when I thought so much of you, talking about a time
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| when I had your touch.
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| And I know it’s not done, but I will be
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| waiting here eternally 'til you find the time.
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| I’m talking about a time when I kissed your face
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| and I’m talking about a time, an emotion and place. |
| And I know it’s not done, but I will be
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| waiting here eternally 'til you make a contribution,
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| 'til you make a resolution when you find the time. |