Well morning comes and you're still with her. And the bus and the tourists are gone. And you've thrown away your choice and lost your ticket. So you have to stay on.
Something about her was familiar
I could swear I'd seen her face before
But she said, I'm sure you're mistaken
And she didn't say anything more
It took a while, but she looked in the mirror
And she glanced at the license for my name
A smile seemed to come to her slowly
It was a sad smile, just the same
Show of Hands
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