| Lamenter, she’s jealous of me
|
| That I get to greet the morning
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| Where I meet who you’ve become
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| And fall again without a warning
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| She keeps shifting, making waves
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| Simple nuance of expression
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| As I bathe in the unknown
|
| I’m captivated by the question
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| When the Now blossoms to Then
|
| And the things we do become back when
|
| Who, who will I love?
|
| Who will I love?
|
| Who, who will I love?
|
| Who will I love?
|
| We watch the days fade away
|
| Are these wrinkles or a thumbprint?
|
| Maps of places that we’ve been
|
| Looking back, the contrast is heightened
|
| When the Now blossoms to Then
|
| And the things we do become back when
|
| Who, who will I love?
|
| Who will I love?
|
| Who, who will I love?
|
| Who will I love?
|
| As far as I can see, it’s ever-changing
|
| As far as I can know, we hold what we let go
|
| As far as I’m concerned, I know lessons I’ve learned
|
| As far as I can be, I’ll be with who you are
|
| Who, who will I love?
|
| Who will I love?
|
| Who, who will I love?
|
| Who will I love?
|
| Who, who will I love?
|
| Who will I love? |