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The Lady

by Silvia Hartmann


When the morning is to too bright
and the sky a little too white
when the clouds begin to fail
there is nothing left to say.

When the morning is to white
and the light a little to bright
when the clouds begin to fail,
there is nothing left to say.

But the lady's dancing
and her voice is like the sun
on golden fields
and when the lady smiles,
you really feel
that dawn has come.

When you're sitting on your own
and they never call on the phone
when the oceans turn to see
there is nothing left for me.

When the time is never now
and your life slides backward somehow
when the oceans turn to sea
there is nothing left for me

But the lady's dancing
and her voice is like the rain
on autumn fields
and when the lady smiles
you really feel
that the lady's there.

Fast: When the bridges have been burned
and the lessons have been learned,
when the oceans turn to see,
there is nothing left for me

When the time is never now
and your life slides backwards somehow
when the oceans turn to sea
there is nothing left for me

But the lady's dancing
and her voice is like the sun
on winter fields
and when the lady smiles
your really see
that the lady's here
that the lady's always near
that the lady's here.

© SH 2001


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