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From Out Of The Blue
Michael Weston King,Ron Sexsmith,Don Kerr
A New Kind Of Loneliness
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Three weeks have passed,
we've not heard the last
The phone has been crying out loud
Ever so sad,
the only son that they had
No mother was ever so proud

The papers had said,
a girl was found dead
Behind the children's playground
A lamb to the slaughter,
this mother's daughter
The silence is all over town

This invitation
extended to you
Came from out of the blue

Inside his room
beside the gloom
Flowers adorn the walls
But something's not right,
he's taken a knife
And replaced all those roses with thorns

He'd spun a line,
washed up by time
Strangled that young girl's cry
His Mom saw the sign,
her lost washing line
So she hung her old son out to dry

Then sitting round the dinner table
They were forced to look into each others eyes
His Mum and Dad
And here Mum and Dad
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