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And I know we were both too young, way back when we had our thing.
And you're not the one that I think of everytime that the telephone rings.
And I know that what we had would not be called love by the ones we know.
And I know it's been many years and a hundred love-affairs ago.

And I know we became restrained everytime we were among friends
And I know how it was last time, and how bitterly it always ends.
And I know we were both too young to know what real love would be like.
And I know that our communication didn't always work out right.

I know all that so well, but I also do know this:
Calleth you, cometh I.
And that's just how it is.
And how it's always been. 
 
 

 

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