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Bends Like A Willow
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She's catching the wind: the gentlest of breezes.
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It's a sensitive passage she's sailing -
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Through stormy straits, navigates my unfathomable failings.
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She rises before me, reading me clearly.
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Empty nest left pressed in the pillow.
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She can shift, she can sway
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and bend like a willow.
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I'm swept in the riptide, caught in a fish trap.
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Gift-wrapped in my soft self centre.
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Summer sun leaves me as one who can only taste winter.
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She's a good, a good God-send: she can bend like a willow.
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She bends like a willow. Oh, she bends like a willow.
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With a fully armed angel to cover me quickly.
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I'm cool under enemy fire.
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If I fall, she can crawl right under the wire.
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When I'm caustic and cold, she might dare to be bold -
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ease me round to her warm way of thinking:
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fill me up from the cup of love that she's drinking.
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And I find, given time, I can bend like a willow.
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She bends like a willow.
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Bends like a willow,
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like a willow,
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a willow.
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Bends Like A Willow
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Jethro Tull |