| Every thread of creation is held in position
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| By still other strands of things living
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| In an earthly tapestry hung from the skyline
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| Of smoldering cities, so gray and so vulgar
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| As not to be satisfied with their own negativity
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| But needing to touch all the living as well
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| And every breeze that blows kindly is one crystal breath
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| We exhale on the blue diamond heaven:
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| As gentle to touch as the hands of the healer
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| As soft as farewells whispered over the coffin
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| We’re poisoned by venom with each breath we take
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| From the brown sulfer chimney and the black highway snake
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| And every dawn that breaks golden is held in suspension
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| Like the yolk of the egg in albumen
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| Where the birth and the death of unseen generations
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| Are interdependant in vast orchestration
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| And painted in colors of tapestry thread
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| When the dying are born and the living are dead
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| And every pulse of your heartbeat is one liquid moment
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| That flows through the veins of your being
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| Like a river of life flowing on since creation
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| Approaching the sea with each new generation
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| You’re now just a stagnant and rancid disgrace
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| That is rapidly drowning the whole human race
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| And every fish that swims silent, every bird that fly freely
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| Every doe that steps softly
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| Every crisp leaf that falls, all the flowers that grow
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| On this colorful tapestry, somehow they know
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| That if man is allowed to destroy all we need
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| He will soon have to pay with his life for his greed |