It seems so long ago,
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Nancy was alone,
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looking ate the Late Late show
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through a semi-precious stone.
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In the House of Honesty
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her father was on trial,
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in the House of Mystery
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there was no one at all,
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there was no one at all.
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It seems so long ago,
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none of us were strong;
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Nancy wore green stockings
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and she slept with everyone.
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She never said she'd wait for us
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although she was alone,
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I think she fell in love for us
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in nineteen sixty one,
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in nineteen sixty one.
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It seems so long ago,
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Nancy was alone,
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a forty five beside her head,
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an open telephone.
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We told her she was beautiful,
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we told her she was free
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but none of us would meet her in
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the House of Mystery,
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the House of Mystery.
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And now you look around you,
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see her everywhere,
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many use her body,
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many comb her hair.
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In the hollow of the night
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when you are cold and numb
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you hear her talking freely then,
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she's happy that you've come,
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she's happy that you've come.
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NANCY
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Leonard Cohen |