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Been climbing trees, I've skinned my knees |
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My hands are black, the sun is going down |
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She scruffs my hair in the kitchen steam |
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She's listening to the dream I weaved today |
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Crosswords through the bathroom door |
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While someone sings the theme tune to the news |
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And my sister buzzes through the room leaving perfume in the air |
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And that's what triggered this |
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I come back here from time to time |
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I shelter here somedays |
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A high-back chair, he sits and stares |
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A thousand yards and whistles marching-band |
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Kneeling by and speaking up |
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He reaches out and I take a massive hand |
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Disjointed tales that flit between |
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Short trousers and a full dress uniform |
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And he talks of people ten years gone |
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Like I've known them all my life |
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Like scattered black and whites |
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I come back here from time to time |
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I shelter here somedays |
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I come back here from time to time |
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I shelter here somedays |