(Brooker / Reid)
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You come to me at midnight and say, 'It's dark in here.'
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You know you robbed me of my sight, and light is what I fear
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I tell you that I can not see but you persist in showing me
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those bangles that I paid for long ago
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And though my face is smiling I'm really feeling low
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and though you say you're with me I know that it's not so
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Your skin crawls up an octave, your teeth have lost their gleam
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The peaches snuggle closer down into the clotted cream
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and for some unknown reason my watch begins to chime
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and though I beg and plead with you, you tell me it's not time
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And though my face is smiling I'm really feeling low
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and though you say you're with me I know that it's not so
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The sun seeps through the window to see if we're still dead
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to try to throw some light upon the gloom around our bed
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At quarter past the doorbell rings, the water faucet drips and sings
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and still my reason will not rhyme, and still you tell me it's not time
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And though my face is smiling I'm really feeling low
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and though you say you're with me I know that it's not so
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You really know that it's not so
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Salad Days (Are Here Again)
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Procol Harum |