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I've lost myself in lips that taste of summer,
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and left the tribes of children far behind;
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now cities seem to open just like flowers
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as I sit down to watch the clocks unwind.
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This wanderlust no longer overtakes me
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and each shadow on my pillow disappears,
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so I watch the caravan of time go by
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and listen for the soft parade of years.
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The seasons move like wild rushing water.
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I listen to the million sounds of night.
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All my friendships ripen into love now;
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and age has made the passing years look bright.
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The key they're playing trembles with my heartbeat.
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A happy tear falls slowly then takes flight,
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and far beyond the ragged edge of skyline
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the soft parade of years rolls out of sight
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-----------------
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SOFT PARADE OF YEARS
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Dion Dimucci |