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Desert Moon Dennis De Young

"Is this the train to Desert moon?" was all she said
But I knew I'd heard that stranger's voice before
I turned to look into her eyes but she moved away
She was standing in the rain
Trying hard to speak my name
They say first love never runs dry
The waiter poured our memories into tiny cups
We Stumbled over words we longer to hear
We talked about the dreams we'd lost or given up
When a whistle cut the night
And shook silence from our lives
As the last train rolled towards dune
Those summer nights when

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