| The horns in the fog could be heard if not seen
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| helping to guide the blind in a dream
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| And down by the seashore, a banquet she gave
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| She was feeding and needing a soul she could save
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| Mama lion, mama lion, I’m starting to sink
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| beneath the sunshine and the icicles
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| in the things that you think
|
| There’s a hole in my destiny
|
| and I’m out on the brink
|
| Mama lion, mama lion
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| She bounces off the boulders, she runs on the rocks
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| She’s taking her time from her grandfather clocks
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| And over the border, and down on the land
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| She’s living in the future
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| and it lies in her hand
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| Mama lion, mama lion, I’m starting to sink
|
| beneath the sunshine and the icicles
|
| in the things that you think
|
| There’s a hole in my destiny
|
| and I’m out on the brink
|
| Mama lion, mama lion
|
| Mama lion, mama lion, I’m starting to sink
|
| beneath the sunshine and the icicles
|
| in the things that you think
|
| There’s a hole in my destiny
|
| and I’m out on the brink
|
| Mama lion, mama lion |