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(Mark Erelli) The sun goes down, the sun comes up Black coffee fills a paper cup Every morning it gets harder to remember The days all seem to pass this way Nothing much to do or say A thousand shades of gray just like November Once upon a time the time stood still The moments they were ours to fill Or drain just like a drunkard will a toast Now I turn around and hope to see You standing where you're supposed to be Instead I find I'm followed by your ghost