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A train went past the window |
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To interrupt the night |
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The waiting hours of morning |
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Seemed further from his sight |
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The wet wall by the playground |
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Glistened through the rain |
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And crying seemed as natural |
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As parents always claim |
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Silence makes the memory loud |
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And silence makes me pray |
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Though empty hearts can beat as loud |
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As full ones during the day |
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Sorrow that a desperate man |
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Can chase away with light |
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Always finds his spirit weak |
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When evening turns to night |
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The Kings |
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Cross train slows down at night |
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When the sky is dark |
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Right next to the infant school |
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Opposite the park |
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Rain falls down on |
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Abbeyhill |
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Memories start to shout |
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As sky and locomotive |
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Let the tears run out |