| Down the street I hear the laughter of the children at their play
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| In their universe the gods are gods of kindness
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| And I can’t help but remember, what you sometimes used to say
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| That we seems to have a need sometimes for blindness
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| All the signs were there that you were gonna go
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| But somehow I seemed to be the last to know
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| And the missing you gets harder every day
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| And the memories come crowding in fools' way
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| 'Til the only thing that I know how to do
|
| Is the missing you
|
| Is the missing you
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| Now the telephone is silent, and the mailman passes by
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| No one comes around and I can’t really blame them
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| If they saw how much I miss you, how it hurts too much to cry
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| Well, they’re old friends, and it couldn’t help but shame them
|
| All the signs were there that you were gonna go
|
| But somehow I seemed to be the last to know
|
| And the missing you gets harder every day
|
| And the memories come crowding in fools' way
|
| 'Til the only thing that I know how to do
|
| Is the missing you
|
| Is the missing you
|
| Oh, I somehow failed to notice, in the days gone by
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| How the world went on around me, and it never caught my eye
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| Now, I don’t know where I was; |
| I don’t know what I was trying to do
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| But all the time by inches, I was losing you
|
| And the missing you gets harder every day
|
| And the memories come crowding in fools' way
|
| 'Til the only thing that I know how to do
|
| Is the missing you
|
| Is the missing you
|
| Oh, the only thing that I know how to do
|
| Is the missing you
|
| Is the missing you |