| And so keep, the things we can’t breathe without
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| And I’ll seek, a woman like you
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| And we’ll reach, for hands with which I can learn
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| And we’ll keep, these hands I can hold I can hold
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| So she said to me, give me words that I can fold
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| And then I’ll keep them in my pocket
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| Above my shirt and above my heart and above my home
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| These hands I can hold I can hold
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| Turmeric in teas and wisdom of our own
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| And there’s plastic in our seas
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| And there’s plastic in our homes, in our homes
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| These hands I can hold, I can hold
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| Hold, hands I can hold I can hold
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| Hold, these hands I can hold I can hold
|
| And so we, we’ll share some tea on the porch
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| And then we’ll spend time
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| In the sea before and after dark
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| And all this stone and wood
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| All this stone and wood will stay here, stay clear
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| And you know that we’ll get old
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| Hands I can hold I can hold
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| Hold, hands I can hold I can hold
|
| Hold, these hands I can hold I can hold
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| See I can’t promise you much
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| But time by the sea
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| And I can’t promise you things
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| But I can promise you these
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| Hands I can hold I can hold
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| Hands I can hold I can hold
|
| These hands I can hold, I can hold
|
| These hands I can hold, I can hold
|
| These hands I can hold, I can hold
|
| These hands I can hold, I can hold
|
| These hands I can hold, I can hold
|
| These hands I can hold, I can hold |