Soon the winding counties will 

Be lost behind me, motorways

And bending roads, the shopping malls

That look the same in every town

Strange new digs and different beds

Will fade their colours from my mind:

Within my fingers, all moist heat

Of lips’ pressed passion I’ll enjoy

Returning to your warm dear arms

Knowing your nearness, knowing too

I’ll be around, I’ll be around,

All through the days I’ll be around

To love – the places where you are

Or will be soon.

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