Don't talk; don't say a thing, because your eyes, they tell me more than your words. Don't go; don't leave me now, because they say the best way out is through. And I am short on words, knowing what's occurred. He begins to leave because of me. I know you're leaving now because I held on to my way tightly. Stay still until you know tomorrow finds the best way out is through. His bag is now much heavier; I wish that I could carry him. But this is our ungodly hour.
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