| Diamonds of silvery rain in the fountains
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| And ten-cent red roses from department store counters
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| Watching the moonlight reflect off the river
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| Beside where the trains cross the bridge and slow down
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| Trains with white letters on black iron sides
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| And white rushing water that all rolls away
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| And Little Miss Someone does not want to stay
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| Everyone’s moving, with places to go
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| And Mr Zero, he sadly stands still
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| As the water goes one way, the train goes another
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| Mr Zero stands still and Miss Someone don’t bother
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| Yesterday’s kiss will be cold by tomorrow
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| As campfires of midnight dissolve in the darkness
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| The room is deserted, the blinds have been drawn
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| Little Miss Someone has packed up and gone
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| Fast moving cars disappear down the highway
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| With signs that say «hitch-hikers: do not disturb»
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| Mr Zero looks quietly up from the curb
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| Morning has faded, and shadows have grown
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| And Little Miss Someone is on her way home
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| Mr Zero stands watching, her plane flies above
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| And with frost-bitten hands waves goodbye to his love
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| Walks through the park on a bright summer Sunday
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| And tapestry kittens that hung on the wall
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| They all die in the air like a soft minor chord
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| A vacancy sign, and a bulletin board
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| Mr Zero is wrapping his jacket around him
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| Speaking kind words that should have been said long ago
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| But Little Miss Someone does not want to know
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| The night is deserted, there’s dust on the shelf
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| Mr Zero sits lonely and talks to himself
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| It’s too late to change, the fine line has been crossed
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| The charades are all done, Mr Zero has lost |