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A feather fell on the ground in front of me, |
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The evening sun, it crept on in, |
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Blue turned to black and the stars shone endlessly; |
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All of love isn't free. |
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Holding my hand like a script in a picture, |
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And holding my wrist like you're choking death, |
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The look in your eye speaks like ages of life; |
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All of love isn't free. |
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I couldn't see why you ran from me, |
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I keep running it back, I keep playing it back, |
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In a moment I see how it came to be... |
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There are stranger ways to fall from grace, |
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And harder ways to see your face, |
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If I will not be what fear makes me; |
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Love will set me free. |
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(A white feather fell) |