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Amor

de Eydie Gormé

Every time we say goodbye, I die a little
Every time we say goodbye I wonder why a little
Why the gods above me who must be in the know
Think so little of me

They allow you to go
When you're near
There's such an air of spring about it
I can hear a lark somewhere begin to sing about it

There's no love song finer
But how strange the change from major to minor
Every time we say goodbye
Every time we say goodbye

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