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I'll rent a house somewhere |
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I'll listen to Biosphere |
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and all I see there |
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a straight line in the atmosphere |
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every hour will be longer |
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and I'll linger with pleasure |
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the only visitor I will invite |
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is the whispering wind or the sunlight |
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I'll leave all disturbants at home |
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the evening papers and the telephone |
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but I'll bring my memories |
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despite everything |
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I hope life will miss me |
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maybe this is wishful thinking |
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and maybe I'll just keep on sinking |
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but sometimes it's enough to know |
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that there is a place where everything is on hold |
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where the hours will be longer |
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and I'll linger with pleasure |