| It was a mild and lively evening at the end of May
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| I had run out for one quick coffee at the corner cafe
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| I must have looked a little tense and over-worked, I guess
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| 'Cause this old man leaned in and said:
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| «My darling, what’s the stress?
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| Come sit, come have a moment’s rest
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| Your work is nothing worth unless
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| Your mind is calm and clear and at its best»
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| And he went on:
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| «To everyone who’s running faster every day,» he said
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| «To everyone who’s not found peace and indepence yet and
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| To everyone who thinks that life is where they’re headed to Who thinks a better day awaits as soon as they get through
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| These busy years of things to do This wall of greedy cynics who
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| Persuade them to give up their dreams too soon
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| Take your time
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| It’s a quarter to forever now
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| Take your time
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| It’s a quarter to forever now
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| To everyone who thinks that love was just a dream they had
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| Who thinks tomorrow and the future has nothing new to add and
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| To everyone who’s watched their hopes run out and slam the door
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| And everyone who still don’t know what they are looking for or Found it and dropped it on the floor
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| Whose hands and arms have gotten sore
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| From holding on too tight to what once was
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| Take your time
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| It’s a quarter to forever now
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| Take your time
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| It’s a quarter to forever now |