| The day the Circus of Heaven came into town
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| Local folk lined the streets in a Midwestern town
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| Waiting anxiously for the parade to begin all around
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| On the very last day
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| A unicorn headed the mystical way
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| Surrounded by what seemed a thousand golden angels at play
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| Behind were Centaurs, elves, bright fairies all in colours of jade
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| On the very final day
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| For what seemed only just another moment in time
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| Seven solemn flying silver regal horses rode by
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| Seven golden chariots in tow, a wonder to behold
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| The Seven Lords of the Mountains of Time
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| There then arose where nothing really stood there before
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| A giant tent rising one thousand feet high from the floor
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| Towns people flocked inside with their eyes all amazed
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| To greet the Seventh Lord of the seventh age
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| A fanfare rang out in an incredible sound
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| Bringing out the strangest visions in perfect harmony round
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| Any dreams he asked would they like to have seen
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| From historical or mythical scenes
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| Then there above their heads just as vivid as life
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| Each vision transported in multitudes inventing light
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| Grecian galleons, the sack of Troy, to the Gardens of Babylon
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| A play of millions roared along
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| The gigantic dreams of Alexander the Great
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| Civil wars where brothers fought and killed their friendship in hate
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| All seen by Zeus performing scenes of the magical way
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| The day the circus came to town
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| Outside great animals as tame as the trees
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| Angels high in starlight dancing streets
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| Tuning their colours with indigo and gold
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| Dropping violet, red and emerald snow
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| As the circus finally changed its invisible course
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| A new world to be found
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| On the dreamy ground we walked upon
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| I turned to my son and said
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| «Was that something beautiful, amazing, wonderful, extraordinary
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| Beautiful?»
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| «Oh! |
| it was OK! |
| But there were no clowns, or lions, or tigers, no bears
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| Candy-floss, toffee apples, no clowns.» |