Now he's brought down the rain
and the indian summer is through
In the morning you'll be following your trail again
fair play to you
You ain't calling me to join you
and I'm spoken for anyway
but I will cry
when you go away

Your beauty is familiar
and your voice is like a key
It plays upon my soul
and torches up a fire inside of me
You cloak is made of magic
and around your table angels play
I will cry
when you go away

Somebody left his whisky
and the night is very young
I've much to say and more to tell

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