| Do you remember one morning last winter
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| When frost sealed all the windows
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| You could see your breath in candyfloss
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| Clouds in the sky that were cut through by plane vapours
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| And the blue of the morning was colder than your hand
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| When you took my small hand
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| Into your large hand
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| And you pressed the two together
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| And they fitted like a glove
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| The coat that you were wearing
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| Was of many different colours
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| But i pulled a thread out of the hem
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| And it was brown just like your eyes
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| You said that i was something
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| That was steady and reliable
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| I held your world together — i was cotton in your coat
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| And you took my heart
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| But i don’t think i noticed
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| Till i woke up here without it
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| On the morning that you left…
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| Morning here is cloudy
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| There’s a fire out on the leaf pile
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| And the leaves are getting wetter
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| All the trees are getting blacker
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| In a week or maybe two weeks
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| Frost will seal up all the windows
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| And i will lie and think of you
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| Standing in your coloured coat
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| And the way you loved the winter
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| More than any man i’ve ever known
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| And the way your skin looks amber
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| In the turning of the light
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| I saw you in the street
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| And you said nothing much had happened
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| You said nothing much had changed
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| But your eyes had changed their colour
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| Maybe they were a little redder
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| Or maybe just the light
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| Could be i was tired (when i’m tired i don’t see right)
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| And you took my small hand
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| Into your large hand and you pressed the two together
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| And they fitted like a glove
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| And you said i’ll see you
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| (maybe next week next month next year)
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| I’ll see you (and then you turned away)
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| And the clouds in the sky
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| Were cut through by plane vapours
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| And the blue of the morning was colder than your hand |