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The Painting - Leaves |
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There's a tree on the hill |
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Everything comes unreal |
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Instruments without sound |
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Lying flat on the ground |
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Raise hand to the sky |
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You'll reach the shimmering and glimmering trembling stars |
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In this place I have seen |
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All the peaces come clear |
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Little words that I fear |
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Whispered close to my ear |
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In your arms I rest |
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When the morning makes cracks in the air |
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Peacefully |
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Until til until until until |
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'Til it all falls apart |
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And the daylight brakes free |
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Then it's just you and me |
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There's a tree on the hill |
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So real |
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And all cause of you you you |