(Nicky Mehta)
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Across that river through the orange squares of light
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Past the streetlamp like a beacon in the rain
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You've stopped in all this motion
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You're heavy with news too sudden
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You're breathing through this undertow of pain
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And all your friends will gather soon
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And you'll surface then to bring them through
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You'll say "it's better this way" and "at least we knew"
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But this practice in leaving
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All these small moves to grieving
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Does it ever really promise what's deserved?
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You want to take him in your arms
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And carry to the river
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Find the boy he once was and row him home
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You want a majesty restored
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Find the place where love was born and let him go
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Many Sundays passed since the day of his first leaving
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You stopped asking for the rule to be reversed
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And with the grace that follows those who know what love is
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You held his hand and walked towards this strange rebirth
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And as the friends gather round to bear witness
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You struggle with the fight to find some peace, to make it worth it
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You want to take him in your arms
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And carry to the river
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Find the boy he once was and row him home
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You want a majesty restored
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Find the place where love was born and let him go
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Row Him Home
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The Wailin' Jennys |