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Slippin’ through My Fingers

Written in 1974, based on an overheard conversation between a couple in a restaurant.


I feel you slippin’ through my finger,
And maybe that’s the way it has to be;
But let’s stop the car right here,
Have another cup of coffee,
And tell me why you’re breakin’ up with me.

I thought vacation was what we really needed,
Away from housework and the kids, we could unwind;
But I see it’s much, much more,
And I can’t stand this cold, cold war;
Won’t you open up and say what’s on your mind.


As I watch you put sugar in your coffee,
You’re a stranger to me now it’s plain to see;
You clear your voice to speak,
And then something makes you weak,
Oh, darlin’, won’t you please look up at me.


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