| All around I see blue and brown
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| Traces of your skin on all the things I found
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| She keeps her warmth in a little jar
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| Rationing tastes, and it’s sweet so far
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| And I got something of a girl back home
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| We sing sweet nothings through a telephone
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| Sometimes I think it’s nothing and nothing more
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| A love that’s gotten grand for some romantic metaphor
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| Oh I don’t know
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| It’s been some years since I’ve been calm
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| Is it something like a ring of smoke
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| Here but for a moment, then gone
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| And I ain’t much a swimmer when the waters are rough
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| I keep myself from hurting when the times get tough
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| And I been saying hit me and I’m bound to burst
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| These days I got no trouble telling love from lust
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| Oh I don’t know
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| It’s been some years since I’ve been calm
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| Is it something like a ring of smoke
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| Here but for a moment, then gone
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| Sweet, unspoken promises I’ll always sing for June
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| It’s when the fields grown fallow that the winter comes too soon
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| Oftentimes she crossed my mind like an old familiar tune
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| But it’s so cold that nothing grows but a flower yet to bloom
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| Said it’s so cold that nothing grows but a flower yet to bloom
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| It’s so cold that nothing grows but a flower yet to bloom |