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Her eyes tell the story so well |
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She tries hard to hide |
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So little expected too often neglected |
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A woman stripped of her pride |
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Always so careful not to cry |
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Until I fall asleep |
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And there in the silence |
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She lies with a tear on her cheek |
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The thought comes to mind that I've relived somehow |
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For herein I can't quite recall |
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That a man without love's only half a man |
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But a woman is nothing at all |
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She knows I don't love her |
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Although heaven knows how I try |
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Her reason for living is to go right on giving |
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One thing that she's gon' be mine |
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Without any warning in the wee hours |
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Of the morning, she cries |
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Her deep inside she cries so to hide |
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Is beginning to show in her eyes |
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And a thought comes to mind that I've relived sometime |
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For herein I can't quite recall |
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That a man without love's only half a man |
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But a woman is nothing at all |
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Yeah, a man without love's only half a man |
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But a woman is nothing at all |