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Well , I'll be damned .Here comes your ghost again |
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But that's not unusual |
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It's just that the moon is full and you happened to call |
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And here I sit, hand on the telephone |
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Hearing a voice I'd known, a couple of light years ago |
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Heading straight for a fall |
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As I remember your eyes |
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were bluer than robin's eggs |
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My poetry was lousy, you said |
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"Where were you calling from?" |
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"A booth in the Midwest" |
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Ten years ago I bought you some cufflinks |
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You brought me something |
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We both know what memories can bring |
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They bring diamond and rust |
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Well, you burst on the scene were already a legend |
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The unwatched phenomenon, |
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the original vagabond you strayed into my arms |
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And there you stayed ,temporarily lost at sea |
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The Madonna was yours for free |
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Yes, the girl on the half shell |
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Could keep you unharmed |
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Now I see you standing |
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with brown leaves falling all around |
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Snow in your hair |
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Now you're smiling out the window |
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of that crummy hotel over Washington Square |
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Our breath comes out white cloud mingles |
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and hangs in the air |
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Speaking strictly for me |
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We both could've died then and there |
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Now you're telling me you're not nostalgic |
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Then give me another word for it |
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You who're so good with words |
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and at keeping thing vague |
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Cause I need some of that vagueness now |
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It's all come back too clearly |
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Yes , I loved you dearly |
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And if you're offering me diamonds and rust |
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I've already paid |