
7th October 1984 Songtext
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I miss whispering down the phone,
Now my hands cold to the touch.
I must go before the floods rush in again,
You're happier when you don't see me much.
Our star was out, alone all by itself.
Now my hands cold to the touch.
I must go before the floods rush in again,
You're happier when you don't see me much.
Our star was out, alone all by itself.
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