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The dawn came down on golden wings |
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And left behind unhappy things |
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The morning was a breaking out across the open sky |
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And I felt my soul a singing as the dark began to die |
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But it wasn't just the morning it was you. |
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It wasn't just the morning it was you. |
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The wind passed by and touched the trees |
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The season freed them from their leaves |
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We watched them out the window silhouetted on the mist |
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As the fingers of their branches opened up their bitter fists |
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But it wasn't just the morning it was you. |
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It wasn't just the morning it was you. |
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The sun was still behind the day |
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The black surrendered to the grey |
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A bird was singing somewhere 'bout a rainbow that he'd found |
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And the stillness of the morning painted colours on the sound |
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But it wasn't just the morning it was you. |
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It wasn't just the morning it was you. |
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The morning stood and held its breath |
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Holding the daylight to its breast |
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But something there was moving that we couldn't really see |
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And we felt the silence filling up the space between the trees |
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But it wasn't just the morning it was you. |
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It wasn't just the morning it was you. |
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Unfinished thoughts were left unsaid |
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Outside the houses raised their heads |
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My heavy eyes looked out to where the daylight had begun |
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And I knew behind the mist there was the promise of the sun |
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But it wasn't just the morning it was you. |
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It wasn't just the morning it was you. |
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It was you. |
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It was you. |
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It was you. |