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We're out in the afternoon, finally out of the living room wandering 'round the bookstore though we don’t know what for 'Cross the room you're a stranger in a colorful sweater and I watch as you flip through a book about birds. I pretend I don't know you, it's the first time I saw you, that maybe we'll meet in the section about trains. Your eyes keep on dancing your body is leaning my beautiful stranger all lost in a book. Outside some time later streets pass in a big blur we say we'll meet up in a couple of hours After time passes slowly I walk back quite quickly I see you across the street at a vendor, on 5th. Again, this is novel a sighting, quite casual your smile is unused unwrapped like a gift Oh, my false stranger your laugh like a chamber suddenly strikes me a familiar sound. It's time that we meet in the middle of the street for the second, for the third, for the millionth time. |