| If you’re thinking of leaving tomorrow
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| If you’re planning on closing a door
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| If you’re cutting your ties
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| and shutting your eyes
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| on all the good that’s gone before
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| I won’t say a word to dissuade you
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| and I have no truth to make you see
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| For I’m long since through with talking
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| and you’re long since a stranger to me
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| If you’re humbling yourself before your maker
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| If you’re preparing for yourself to take a bow
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| If you’re cleansing your soul
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| and attending your woe
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| heading for the heartland in a plough
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| I won’t say a word to dissuade you
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| No I will not disturb your reverie
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| For I’m long since through with talking
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| and you’re long since a stranger to me
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| Your eyes are full of promise
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| and your winter coat is warm
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| Your house is fine and your vanities are like mine
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| You’re the perfect port in any storm
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| And your hair is the colour of morning
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| and your trust comes absolutely free
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| and your soul is as high as Mount Etna
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| but your loving is a stranger to me |