Nights

She sleeps like a stone
Still and silent at the bottom of the river
But sheâ??s alive

I study the line of her shoulders
Smell the last remnants of perfume

How long is it going to last

And itâ??s good to feel her drift away
Drift away to places Iâ??ll never see

I hear engines in the night

And somewhere someone makes a row
Then everything gets back to quiet

Good night
Sweetheart

Good night

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