| Well you called me
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| Telephone ringing in the night
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| And you asked me if I was alright
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| Like an afterthought, an oversight
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| And I stood so surprised
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| Trying to hold on to my pride
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| So close I could hear your low sigh
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| I said I was fine, you said you were fine
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| There’s a loneliness, I don’t lose sight of it
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| Like a high distant satellite
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| One side in shadow, one in light
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| But I didn’t mind to be alone that night in a city I’d never seen
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| All these skyscrapers pooling on a prairie
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| Built high and tall, as though they all compete
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| Just to reach the darkness up above
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| That once here had been
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| Somewhere if there’s a beauty you had seen in me
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| That I wanted somehow to believe
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| Drift of sentiment and memory
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| That I could not have, I could not keep
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| No, it never did belong to me
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| It was only ever another thing I would carry
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| Still it held me, loyalty, to a feeling, to some glimpse
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| Of a love that was only ever a kind of distance that we could not cross
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| «Gather no moss» |