In the winter wind that cuts my skin,
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I think of the warmth spring.
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The color of the world that reflects.
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And there is the usual line-up of faces.
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But you know, every day
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Is always different from the last.
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In the seasons that change time and time again,
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The words we exchange pile up.
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And someday, I will be able
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To know and believe many things.
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Even of you plan for it not to change,
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Everything is changing little by little,
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Even in this single moment,
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Things are changing here too.
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And pass by, day by day.
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The needle on the clock
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Can't turn back, can't stop.
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Of a long path is not so bad.
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Show up in a picture, take a picture
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With the camera of your heart.
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I can meet people that pass by
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And there's never anyone I won't see again
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That's the reason I'm here.
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My answer is definitely meetings,
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But if I put it in words, all of these
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Feelings that are born in me
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Really does vary case by case.
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No one knows, or measure
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But the vagueness of these days
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Even if it's just right now,
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It's not that I was having a dream,
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And I really wasn't expecting anything.
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But even so, I know and feel
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And there is the usual line-up of faces.
+
But you know, every day
+
Really is different from the last.
+
And pass by, day by day.
+
The needle on the clock
+
Can't turn back, can't stop.
+
Of a long path is not so bad.
+
Show up in a picture, take a picture
+
With the camera of your heart.
+
Show up in a picture, take a picture
+