| I loved a triple spiral
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| My maiden-mother-crone
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| I folded my devotion into an origami rose
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| Stood at her Tiffany window
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| She said to look below
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| Could I see the town was burning?
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| Could I see the broken prison?
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| Could I see that it was time for me to go?
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| They looted the museum
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| Took all that they could hold
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| A motorcade of flatbed trucks
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| Made off with quite a haul
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| That’s when I heard someone shout
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| «In with the new, out with the old»
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| A dusty box of letters
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| A rusty suit of armor
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| A casket made of 14 karat gold
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| That’s the problem
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| No sense of time
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| She is shaped just like an hour glass
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| There laying on her side
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| I loved you triple spiral
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| Father, son, and ghost
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| But you left me in my darkest hour
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| When I needed you, when I needed you
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| And now the dream is over
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| I want it to be known
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| I never saw it coming
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| From my little human prism
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| How sad it is to know I’m in control
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| That’s the problem
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| An empty sky
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| I fill it up with everything
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| That’s missing from my life
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| Where’d you come from
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| You fated sign
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| Spinning through the centuries
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| Expanding all the time
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| Three worlds at one that blend together
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| Three times I cried for us
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| But I felt better then
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| I loved you triple spiral
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| My maiden-mother-crone
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| You found me in this fallow state
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| My mind was off and stoned
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| I heard your strange commotion
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| And wished I could go home
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| To live a little longer
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| A full Indian summer
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| Long enough to carve you into stone |