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CANADIAN ROSE Blues Traveller Autumn air it carries me there Less than an hour to go Six hundred miles an hour And still it feels so slow I'm trying to get back to Burlington To a square in the center of town To a spot on a wooden table Where her feet didn't reach the ground And when she kisses me it tasted like cinnamon And her skin smells of cider and rose And when she looked at me we both got quiet And my heart beats so hard we were in so close Once for such a beautiful while that still makes me smile And she called me her ugly American And I would call her my Canadian flower And I don't think that we'll ever get there again We had such power And she would call me her ugly American And I'll remember my Canadian rose Especially when the fall comes to Burlington We were in so close I finally made it this town looks rearranged I don't know these people anymore But in the best ways not much else has changed >From the way it was before And at least they still have this certain table Where I once carved a particular name I run my finger through the weathered carving And I almost can feel the same And my mouth it almost tastes just like cinnamon As I ponder what my pilgrimage means And I try to figure out where Vancouver is from here And I listen to the leaves. (Contributed by =Ae= - August 2013)

    


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