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it isn't always i am well |
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for sometimes i am ailing |
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and yet in steaming night i smile |
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to downplay this my failing |
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and make a noise to bury all |
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of your weeping and your wailing |
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and then in bed by little light |
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and closed off from it all |
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i must try and bring a conscious end to night |
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and hope that dreams begin to fall |
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the color of my dreams, they would be you...ruby |
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oh if i could close my eyes and bring you to me |
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push your head into |
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make you not you not you not you but me |
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and then in dreams i wander free |
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and see some things i'm meant to see |
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and sometimes even i see thee |
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and would the night go on and on |
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and not tomorrow end at dawn |
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and whatever mat i lay upon |
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dissolve |
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the color of my dreams, if i had dreams, they would be you...ruby |
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everything i do is done to bring you closer to me |
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when you sleep your breath it blows right on through me |
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the color of my dreams, if i had dreams, they would be you...ruby |
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the color of my dreams, they would be you...ruby |
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and illness be or wellness thrive |
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my dream proves i am yet alive |