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Her name was Joanne |
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And she lived in a meadow by a pond |
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She touched me for a moment |
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With a look that spoke to me of her sweet love |
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Then the woman that she was, drove her on with desperation |
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And I saw as she went, a most hopeless situation |
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For Joanne and the man and the time |
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That made them both run |
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She was only a girl, I know that well |
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But still I could not see |
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That the hold that she had |
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Was much stronger than the love she felt for me |
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But staying with her and my little bit of wisdom |
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Broke down her desires |
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Like a light through a prism, into yellows and blues |
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And the tune that I could not have sung |
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Though the essence is gone |
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I have no tears to cry for her |
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My only thoughts of her are kind |
|
Her name was Joanne |
|
And she lived in a meadow by a pond |
|
She touched me for a moment |
|
With a look that spoke to me of her sweet love |
|
Then the woman that she was, drove her on with desperation |
|
And I saw, as she went, a most hopeless situation |
|
For Joanne and the man and the time |
|
That made them both run |
|
Though the essence is gone |
|
I have no tears to cry for her |
|
My only thoughts of her are kind |
|
Her name was Joanne |
|
And she lived in a meadow by a pond |
|
She touched me for a moment |
|
With a look that spoke to me of her sweet love |
|
Then the woman that she was, drove her on with desperation |
|
And I saw, as she went, a most hopeless situation |
|
For Joanne and the man and the time |
|
That made them both run |
|
For Joanne and the man and the time |
|
That made them both run |