| A boy upon a tireless trail, with the wind at his back
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| He’s becoming One, -coming One
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| He’s becoming One.
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| The birds, the bees, the wild trapeze,
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| Symbiotic heart-attack.
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| He’s becoming One, -coming One
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| He’s becoming One.
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| Stand still! |
| Like a humming bird that flies.
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| Stand still! |
| Like a humming bird that flies.
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| Stand still! |
| Like a humming bird that flies.
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| Stand still! |
| Like a humming bird that flies.
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| No borders, no empires, no inquisitions,
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| Point or blame.
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| He’s becoming One, -coming One
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| He’s becoming One.
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| Up North, down South, back East and out West,
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| They’re saying his bright-eyed name.
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| He’s becoming One, -coming One
|
| He’s becoming One.
|
| Stand still! |
| Like a humming bird that flies.
|
| Stand still! |
| Like a humming bird that flies.
|
| Stand still! |
| Like a humming bird that flies.
|
| Stand still! |
| Like a humming bird that flies.
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| Still. |
| Like a humming bird that flies.
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| He’s becoming One, -coming One
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| He’s becoming One, -coming One
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| Armed only with an old guitar,
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| Broken-end on wits and whim,
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| He’s becoming One, -coming One
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| He’s becoming One.
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| Humming bird up in an April sky, observed and said of him
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| He’s becoming One, -coming One
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| Yeah, he’s coming home. |