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The long and winding road that leads to your door
Will never disappear, I've seen that road before
Don't leave me standing there, lead me to your door


Ah Lady Madonna, baby at your breast
Wonders how you manage to feed the rest
Well Friday night arrive without a suitcase
Sunday morning papers didn't come
Monday's child has learned to tie his bootlace
Oh see how they run

Lady Madonna, lying on the bed
Listen to the music playing in your head