| The song I love the best’s the one my father taught to me,
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| The kindness of a stranger is dust from an unseen wing,
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| But an old friend at my table is by far the finest thing
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| This tired mile could give to me.
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| The colors of the man I love are deepest blue and green,
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| And it isn’t very often that I say just what I mean,
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| Cause the feeling seems to scatter and these words fall in between.
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| For what I miss I’ll just tell you this,
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| It’s something to me.
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| It’s something to me.
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| I don’t know what it comes to and it’s not so much to see,
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| But you take tomorrow so long as you know
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| It’s something to me,
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| It’s something to me.
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| Well, the city comes to greet me with her secrets all lit up,
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| Beauty is letting your guard down all the way in hands you trust,
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| But there’s a time you hold your head up, say it doesn’t hurt so much,
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| Keep all your tears where no one can see.
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| Gentle is the road within me and it’s gently I depart,
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| Cause these well-worn threads of daylight will sometimes come apart,
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| Giving way to all the shadows where no one can hear your heart,
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| So down in the dark, if that’s where you are,
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| It’s something to me.
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| Now the tender hands of morning have given up a new sunrise,
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| And we all get up together in our ordinary lives,
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| Going one step for another giving up has crossed my mind,
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| But I’ll take a long day, come round the right way.
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| It’s something to me. |