I know that hearts were loving long before I was here, and I'm not the first to ever cry in their bed or in their beer. There were songs before there was radio about love that stays and love that goes, they were writing melancholy tunes and tearful words that rhyme. Before my time. There were songs in old dusty books of love that's always been, sweet lovers in their glory who are now gone with the wind. Old fashioned love-words spoken then keep coming back and around again, nothing's changed except the names, their love burns just like mine. Before my time. And in the dim of yesterday I can clearly see that flesh and blood cried out to someone as it does in me, and there was some old song that said "I'll love you 'til you die." Before my time. But what the old-time masters had is what I feel for you, love is love and doesn't change in a century or two. If someway they had seen and knew how it would be for me and you, they'd wish for love like yours and they'd wish for love like mine. Before my time
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