| Life in the desert of rain
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| We are the people who live on this plain
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| Waking and sleeping we wander alone
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| Through the wind, the sand and the stones
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| And the rain flashes glimmers of gold
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| To pleasure our eyes in the cold
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| No long — ago songs to poison our souls
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| And tomorrow never unfolds
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| Here are no paintings
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| Here spin no tales
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| Here lives no poet
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| There’s no hiding ourselves
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| Hard are the flints of our hearts
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| They link us together and keep us apart
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| My path crossed yours in the dark
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| We touched and both saw the spark
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| And the spark grew to flame and white heat
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| As our spirits awoke to a thundering beat
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| And the drum sings the language of time
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| Where your rivers flow into mine
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| (a glow is in the desert of rain)
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| Here is a painting
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| Here spins a tale
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| Here is a poem
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| Here’s a shelter for us You move on, you move on…
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| Beyond the horizon you’re gone
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| And the rain flashes glimmers of gold
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| But I’m cold, i’m freezing cold
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| And cold is the blade that cuts deep
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| From the shadows of you to my waking sleep
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| And the drum says a tale has been born
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| While i live like a flame in a storm
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| You’ll be the painting
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| You’ll be the tale
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| You’ll be the poem
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| I will tell to myself |