| The man and the ghost will meet again
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| In the night when it snows, never quiet, never cold
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| Hear their calling, lost lords to cast the ride, white spears in their hands,
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| pointing towards the sky
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| The ancient echoes from the wielded jaws, the bones and the scales,
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| the forgotten lore
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| The calm of the night, lighting the flame
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| In the night when they haunt the curtain shall fall
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| Heroes and fools, all together, all the same, statues of the restless
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| Gallery of the drowned and the pale
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| The man and the ghost will meet again on the marshes of the old,
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| though silent when it snows |