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On slow days |
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Thoughts free to wander |
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Over to West Hurley |
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And down past Ashokan |
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The reservoir |
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And Georgia waving from the back of a car |
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She holds your hand |
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She holds it so tightly |
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She digs in her fingernails |
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And later that night, she whispers a name |
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She says it aloud for the last time |
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Cutting that milkweed |
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Bending down low in her navy blue dress |
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I'll never know which one I resemble the best |
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Oh, Georgia, you have been missed |
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The light from the moon |
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It falls on the Hudson |
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And your mind is back in 1907 |
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The reservoir |
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And Georgia waving from the back of a car |