| A Saturday downpour carved out rivers in the sand
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| She said it was her first time to see the sea
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| Helping to clime the jetty rocks
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| Was the first time I touched her hand
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| And the rain and the way it felt never let up all week
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| By Thursday I knew everything about her
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| And God, the last day I didn’t want to leave without her
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| The side-walks and streets
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| Were soaked and the sky was gray
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| But you should have seen her face
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| Shining like that light house
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| Through all the rain and the way she called my name
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| I’ve lived those seven days a thousand times
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| Those seven days a thousand times
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| Time was like the tide, it came and went
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| That old pier ran clear out into the mist
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| And my mind plays that Tuesday night again and again and again
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| I taste that old saltwater taffy on her lips
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| And Wednesday morning snuck in through the window
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| And we just laid there and listened to the waves come and go
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| The side-walks and streets
|
| Were soaked and the sky was gray
|
| But you should have seen her face
|
| Shining like that light house
|
| Through all the rain and the way she called my name
|
| I’ve lived those seven days a thousand times
|
| Those seven days a thousand times
|
| Moments with her, now there all a blur
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| Except for every second
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| Every word, every drop of rain
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| Every single grain of sand
|
| The side-walks and streets
|
| Were soaked and the sky was gray
|
| But you should have seen her face
|
| Shining like that light house
|
| Through all the pouring rain and the way she called my name
|
| I’ve lived those seven days a thousand times
|
| Those seven days a thousand times |