They brought me a beautiful basket of fruit
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And two finger bowls of glass
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The couch is gold with a floral design
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And the wine is Germany's best
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And the wine is Germany's best
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My thoughts drift into the frozen night
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Frankfurt is covered with snow
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And numbly they ride on an icy wind
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To places they're longing to go
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To places they're longing to go
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I remember the tall dark Irish rose
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Who held me in my limousine
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And slept with me under a burgundy quilt
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With sheets of silk in between
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Well, anyway, that's how it seemed
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I thought I wanted to marry him
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His face was sculpted by God
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His words were gentle and ever so true
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And soft as the Irish fog
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And lost in the Irish fog
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I remember the boy from the monastery
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Who wanted to be a monk
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But he brought flowers and wine to my room
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And we both got happily drunk
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And we both got perfectly drunk
|
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He laughed like the chimes of a silver bell
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His eyes were alexandrite blue
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He danced the t'ai chi with the grace of a deer
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And I wanted to marry him too
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Yes I wanted to marry him too
|
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There was that son of a dog from the Tennessee hills
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Kept telling me I was still young
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He spoke in pure southern and smoothed out the lines
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Round my eyes saying I was the one
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Forever that I'd be the one
|
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He drank and he cussed and he wrote his own songs
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He was very much on the go
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We followed each other for over a year
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I couldn't have married him though
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So we just lived in sin on the road
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There was that black eyed beauty from Boston town
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Two days were never too long
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He stood by the mirror and picked out a rose
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But I already wrote him a song
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Yes, I already wrote him a song
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So here I sit with my basket of fruit
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And two finger bowls of glass
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I finished my bottle of Germany's best
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And concluded my thoughts on the past
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That love is a pain in the ass
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Love Song To A Stranger (Part 2)
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| Joan Baez |