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I sang myself To sleep Guess I still do Could you hold my hand? I can't I never learned how to And all the years That hang like rain I often wish Them back again But somewhat born And half awake A parking lot A bellyache And every time I turn To find There's no one there I feel it like It's shining new and fall again And all the years That hang like rain I often wish Them back again In ribbons tied Around our waist I held your arms You wore my face And something in The evening sky Said: Holy holy sick am I But so are you And there you stand A garden wall A weatherman