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She was polishing the chairs |
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When the doorbell rang |
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She smoothed down her hair |
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And answered to a little old man |
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He gave her his widest grin and said |
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Would you mind if I came in and talked to you? |
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One April afternoon |
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Two shadows walking in the sun |
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Their final tune |
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Two shadows waiting for the April moon |
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She showed him the kitchen |
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And he pulled up a chair |
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As he was about to begin |
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He noticed her hair |
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He thought to himself |
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How beautiful she looked |
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And said |
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Would you mind if I took a picture of you? |
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April afternoon |
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Two shadows walking in the sun |
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Their final tune |
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Two shadows waiting for the April moon |