| Daylight breaks, and the black birds call-
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| And the market stalls are filling up, spilling over the streets.
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| High above, over Notting Hill-
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| I am floating still, in a wooden chair, with our restless dog.
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| Been away so long, almost forgot how time and space
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| Cannot replace this feeling of flying over things.
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| Night falling away, your sleeping face begins to register
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| That I’m coming home- yeah, I’m coming home to you.
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| Oh the song that only we know,
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| Where the sunlight and the wind blows.
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| Over bluebells, over black-
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| Heed, call your name-
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| I will float through your window.
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| Major third, or a minor seventh-
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| And a violin tuned a little sharp, tuned a little below.
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| Come around a bend, the hallway ends.
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| The chair it dips, and then it bends-
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| And it has wings for legs.
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| Night, deep in a dream, the sheets and pillowcases
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| Seem to overtake your head.
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| Well, I’m at the foot of our bed.
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| Oh the song that only we know,
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| Where the sunlight and the wind blows.
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| Over bluebells, over black-
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| Heed, call your name-
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| I will float through your window.
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| Oh the song that only we know,
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| Where the sunlight and the wind blows.
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| Over bluebells, over black-
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| Heed, call your name-
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| I will float through your window.
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| Pray through the silence, the gulf that’s between us.
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| Take all the heartache and we’ll shake the fields up.
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| And we will unravel, unravel the moments.
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| And we will unravel, unravel the moments.
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| Oh…
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| Oh the song that only we know,
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| Where the sunlight and the wind blows.
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| Over bluebells, over black-
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| Heed, call your name-
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| I will come to your window.
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| (Oh the song that only we know,
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| Where the sunlight and the wind blows.)
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| I’ll be calling your name
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| As I float through your window. |