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Some days her shape in the doorway |
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Will speak to me A bird's wing on the window |
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Sometimes I'll hear when she's sleeping |
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Her fever dream |
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A language on her face |
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I want your flowers like babies want God's love |
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Or maybe as sure as tomorrow will come |
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Some days, like rain on the doorstep |
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She'll cover me |
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With grace in all she offers |
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Sometimes I'd like just to ask her |
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What honest words |
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She can't afford to say, like |
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I want your flowers like babies want God's love |
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Or maybe as sure as tomorrow will come |
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Ivy to bright first song |