Wintertime is our time. The low sun flickering through railings.
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Piccadilly and coffee cups. Looking through the eyes of love.
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Wintertime is our time. Moonlight on snow. It's where we were born, it's home.
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It's where we were born, it's home.
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And now that you're finally in my arms to stay, there is no ache.
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No longing, no sense of loss, when the cold air whispers all about us.
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Of you of me, of us.
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A bench by the channel. A cave by a castle.
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Places we tried to say goodbye. Someone new to miss.
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A tentative gift. The first butterflies, the first butterflies.
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And now that you're finally in my arms to stay, there is no ache.
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No longing, no sense of loss, when the cold air whispers all about us.
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Of you of me, of us.
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That promise I made, I was never going to keep it.
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Wasn't there always hope? Or is that just me, rewriting history?
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Is it easy to say that now, there's no taxi cab to bring us down?
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Now that the time that's ours doesn't have to feel like it's running out.
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And now that you're finally in my arms to stay, there is no ache.
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No longing, no sense of loss, when the cold air whispers all about us.
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Of you of me, of us.
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Moonlight on snow.
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Moonlight On Snow
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Trembling Blue Stars |