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My grandmother's house is still there but it isn't the same |
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A plain wooden cottage, a patch of brown lawn |
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And a fence that hangs standing and sighing in the Seattle rain |
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I drive past the strangers and wish they could see what I see |
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A tangle of summer birds flying in sunlight |
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A forest of lilies, an orchard of apricot trees |
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Secret gardens of the heart where the flowers bloom forever |
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I see you shining through the night in the ice and snow of winter |
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Great grandfather's house is still there but it isn't the same |
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The barn is torn down and the fences are gone |
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The Idaho wind blows the topsoil away every spring |
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I still see the ghosts of the people I knew long ago |
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Inside the old kitchen they bend and they sigh |
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My life passed them up and the world in it's way passed them by |
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Secret gardens of the heart where the old stay young forever |
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I see you shining through the night in the ice and snow of winter |
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But most of all it is me who has changed but I'm still the same |
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That's me at the weddings, that's me at the graves |
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Dressed like the people who once looked so grown up and brave |
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I look in the mirror through the eyes of the child that was me |
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I see willows bending, the season is spring |
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Silver blue sailing birds fly with the sun on their wings |
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Secret gardens of the heart where the dreams live on forever |
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I see you shining through the night in the ice and snow of winter |
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Secret gardens of the heart where the flowers bloom forever |
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I see you shining through the night in the ice and snow of winter |