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the best years
once there lived a child near the border
wild eyes would watch him from the wood
i was both the child and the voyeur
you are all my dreams misunderstood
i guess that i was wrong and you were right
these seem to be the best years of my life
through the wild nights of empty chatter
through the broken family holidays
i would find us madder than a hatter
i will love you till my dying day
and i won't raise a glove or bat an eye
i owe to you the best years of my life
