The rain, it started tapping on the window near my bed. There was a loophole in my dreaming,
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so I got out of it. And to my surprise my eyes were wide and already open.
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Just my nightstand and my dresser where those nightmares had just been.
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So I dressed myself and left then, out into the gray streets.
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But everything seemed different and completely new to me.
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The sky, the trees, houses, buildings, even my own body.
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And each person I encountered, I couldn't wait to meet.
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I came upon a doctor who appeared in quite poor health.
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I said "{I am terribly sorry but} there is nothing I can do for you
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{that} you can't do for yourself."
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He said "Oh yes you can. Just hold my hand. I think that would help."
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So I sat with him a while and then I asked him how he felt.
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He said, "I think I'm cured. No, in fact, I'm sure.
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Thank you Stranger, for your therapeutic smile."
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So that is how I learned the lesson that everyone is alone.
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And your eyes must do some raining if you are ever going to grow.
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But when crying don't help and you can't compose yourself.
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It is best to compose a poem, an honest verse of longing or simple song of hope.
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That is why I'm singing...
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Baby don't worry cause now I got your back. And every time you feel like crying,
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I'm gonna try and make you laugh. And if I can't, if it just hurts too bad,
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then we will wait for it to pass and I will keep you company
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through those days so long and black.
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And we'll keep working on the problem we know we'll never solve
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Of Love's uneven remainders, our lives are fractions of a whole.
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But if the world could remain within a frame like a painting on a wall.
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Then I think we would see the beauty.
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Then we would stand staring in awe at our still lives posed like a bowl of oranges,
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like a story told by the fault lines and the soil.
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-----------------
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Bowl Of Oranges
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Bright Eyes |