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If you insist on pictures of shorelines |
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then i insist on pages of your lines |
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meant for me, to be sent to me. |
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remember watching the storms from the lifeguard stand |
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remember the tingling in my fingertips |
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when i touch your lips |
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and i recall how you sat on the same side of me |
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you know it seems that you'd always be on my side |
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you're my best side. |
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and it's early June so the sand's still dry |
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and you have got the boldest eyes |
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and i can't help but think it's right |
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that inside you it's me i'll find |
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and i'm still waiting... |
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and it's early June so the sand's still dry |
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and the storm off shore's not far behind |
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and i'm still waiting...and i'm still waiting |
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and sometimes you don't say a thing for a long while |
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and the ships off shore hold stories that we'd make |
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and sometimes we are held at bay by these miles |
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but less of you is more than i can take. |
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and the moments that we've shared could last a lifetime |
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and the faith i have in us will keep you near |
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but several of these miles placed in between us |
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means several of these words be sent by mail. |
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i hope this letter finds you well. |
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and sometimes we don't say a thing for a long while |
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and the ships off shore hold stories that we'd make |
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and sometimes we are held at bay by these miles |
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but less of you is more than i can take. |