| There is a comet floating thru this endless night
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| Embraced with perfect symmetry
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| Thru the tear drop of infinity
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| In a window called the universe
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| With no map or intention
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| Towards some floating destination
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| It will find or it will be found
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| No pride, no guilt, no hate, no envy
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| Who sings this song
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| Sings with a crooked tongue
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| Looking off into a crooked sky
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| Wondering
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| What immortal hand or eye
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| Could carve this comet
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| On it’s course
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| Like a blind man riding on a crooked horse
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| Returning to the source
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| Where no though has ever happened
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| And time can’t be imaged
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| No pride, no guilt, no hate, no envy
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| No pride, no guilt, no hate, no envy |