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While they have been eating |
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The rain has started falling, |
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|
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Gradually gathering in strength; |
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What began a drizzle |
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Has now become torrential, |
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And doesnt look like coming to an end. |
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The two bedraggled figures |
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That huddle in the doorway, |
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With nothing vaguely waterproof to wear, |
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Are now secretly wishing |
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Theyd listened to their mothers |
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When being told to always be prepared. |
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Screaming |
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Geronimo!, |
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They run for it down the road; |
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With an arm around her waist |
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He leads her to a place |
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He knows. |
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Soaked through, but happy, |
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They squelch up to the landing; |
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The room before them |
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Makes a welcome sight. |
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The coal fire is throwing |
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Strange shapes upon the hearthrug, |
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And crying out to be knelt down beside. |
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She pulls off her jumper |
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And flings it in the corner; |
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He picks it up and hangs it on a chair. |
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She puts on a record |
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And sings into her coffee; |
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He puts a blanket round her, |
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Sits her down |
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And dries her beautiful hair. |