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The days of wine and roses are distant days for me
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I dream of the last and the next affair and of little girls
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I'll never see
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And here I sit the retired writer in the sun
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The retired writer in the sun, and I'm
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Blue, the retired writer in the sun
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Tonight I trod in starlight. I excuse myself with a grin
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I ponder the moon in a silver spoon and the little one alive
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within.
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And here I sit the retired writer in the sun
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The retired writer in the sun, and I'm
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Blue, the retired writer in the sun
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The magazine girl poses on my glossy paper aeroplane
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Too many years I spent in the city playing with Mister Loss
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and Gain.
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And here I sit the retired writer in the sun
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The retired writer in the sun, and I'm
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Blue, the retired writer in the sun
|
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I bathe in the sun of the morning, lemon circles swim in the
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tea
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Fishing for time with a wishing line and throwing it back in
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the sea. C
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And here I sit the retired writer in the sun
|
The retired writer in the sun, and I'm
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Blue, the retired writer in the sun
|
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-----------------
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Writer In The Sun
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Donovan |