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She just slipped out of our four-poster, already on the run
Heading for the airport flying east to catch the rising sun
She’s been leaving since she got here, at least that’s the way it seems
Lately I’m unsure if she’s real or a vision from my dreams
She flows with such quick abandon as she leaves me lying here
All I understand is my empty arms long to hold her near
I’ll spend my days in exile whether at work or in our home
Never feeling quite complete again until she stops her roam
My child’s heart is so fragile, my old man’s head such a mess
No wonder that her departures always leave me in distress
She lives life in her fast lane, I cycle sluggishly in mine
The pain is worth the pleasure as she is such a gift divine
We talk of new beginnings, starting fresh, pulling up stakes
But our hearts they know that we’ll keep on in syncopated chase

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