| Long ago in ancient times
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| We learned of life from minstrels rhymes
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| They told us tales of gods and kings
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| And to be beware when sirens sing
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| But when we heard the clarion call
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| The people laughed and built a wall
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| We joyfully rehearsed the tune
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| Like howling wolves at devils moon
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| We’ve all been taught our lines
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| So righteous with our holy signs
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| We were deaf to the lies
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| We were blind and unkind and unwise
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| And will we ever learn
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| All empires built will someday burn
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| When they’ve lost all concern
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| And they fail just to listen and learn
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| No more life
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| No more air
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| Like a ship of fools adrift on le mal de mare
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| No more joy
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| No more hope
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| Still we search for signs of truth as we learn to cope
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| Lord from the Isle of Misanthrope
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| And will we ever learn
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| All empires built will some day burn
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| When they’ve lost all concern
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| And they fail just to listen and learn
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| No more light
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| No more air
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| Like a ship of fools adrift sur le mal de mare
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| No more life
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| No more air
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| Like a ship of fools adrift on le mal de mare
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| Still we search for signs of truth as we learn to cope
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| Lord from the Isle of the Misanthrope
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| And when we crossed the bridge of sighs
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| We bowed and said our last goodbyes
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| Then set a course for better days
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| Then once again we sailed away… |