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Still,
I think of you, baby
And how i grew old with you then
And this summer, youll call-maybe
And act as if we were old friends
Youd say, how are you, baby
Id say, its raining in athens
And to this day
I nurse the fever
That spoiled my poor heart
And ive mastered the art of dealing
Slipping away without falling apart
So when this summer, you call-maybe
And ask how
Ive been
I can be honest and answer plainly
Since november, its been raining