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Watching the sun |
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Watching it come |
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Watching it come up |
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Over the rooftops |
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Cloudy and warm |
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Maybe a storm |
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You can never quite tell |
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From the morning |
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And it's going to be a day |
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There is really no way to say |
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No to the morning |
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Yes it's going to be a day |
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There is really nothing left to say |
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But come on morning |
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Waiting for mail |
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Maybe a tail |
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From an old friend |
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Or even a lover |
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Sometimes there's none |
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But we have fun |
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Thinking of all who might |
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Have written |
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And it's going to be a day |
|
There is really no way to say |
|
No to the morning |
|
Yes it's going to be a day |
|
There is really nothing left to say |
|
But come on morning |
|
And maybe there are seasons |
|
And maybe they change |
|
And maybe to love is not so strange |
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The sounds of the day |
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Now they hurry away |
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Now they are gone until tomorrow |
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When day will break |
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And you will wake |
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And you will rake your hands |
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Across your eyes and realize |
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That it's going to be a day |
|
There is really no way to say |
|
No to the morning |
|
Yes it's going to be a day |
|
There is really nothing left to say |
|
But come on morning |
|
And maybe there are seasons |
|
And maybe they change |
|
And maybe to love is not so strange |