| Oh Western soul, a shrivelling fruit
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| Would you soon lay down and die
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| A rising monarch, howling laments on air
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| Lifelong lord in earthly lair
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| Fed up in surplus, your profane delight
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| Betraying needs, how far it leads
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| Still stretching the limit, pushing on
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| This tempting spirit of luring bloom
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| The Babylon sang in unison
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| The spirit of life is the spirit of death
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| Clearwater bowl, do bite this mold
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| Let the promise you made warm the cold
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| The Babylon now sings in unison
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| The spirit of death turns to life
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| The first becomes the last, while the last becomes the first
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| New land in sight to put out this thirst
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| Slow down, make it simple and sing
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| To make our thirst meet the life spring
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| Now streaming through Your hands
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| (The present day Babylon sang in unison
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| The spirit of life is the spirit of death
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| Clearwater bowl, do bite this mold
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| Let the promise you made warm the cold)
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| Streaming through Your hands |