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Our old moon once hung in orbit |
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Bare, though full, when there was nothing on it |
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Long before we were adorners |
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Then in time |
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It covered our bright lights |
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And Easter islands |
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O how some do bloom |
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Some turn to ruins |
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Our old room |
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Corner apartment |
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Eventually hung heavy with the ornament |
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By the time we moved over |
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You wore my name |
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I wore your colors |
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O how some do bloom |
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Some turn to ruins |
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And wildlife |
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Why some come gleamy-eyed to the evening glow |
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I don't know |
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And then bide |
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On flashing fish and the silver light |
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How it's made to show |
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I don't know |
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But in a new moon |
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In a vacant evening |
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Where there's a quiet |
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Or an empty feeling |
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I know, as time goes |
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There'll be lights on my home |