Your letter's waiting home, in their bright red coats, under a minding stone. I hear forewords you wrote.
I can't be sad. I can't make you move.
Now you're on your own, even they can't stand what I said before and you know.
I can't take my eyes of you.
And I bathed in the light you gave, but its dark in another way. Yes you gave me the light today, but its dark in another way I can't be sad. I can't take my eyes of you.
Writer(s): Jack Steadman
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