| Nay, nay, set your sights afar
|
| We’ve strayed in wary, but were weary slain
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| Cries in volumes, bleated strains
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| Caught off guard and untrained
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| Now, when the dark was hallowed
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| They burned the light just to spy the prize from above
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| And when the stars were bolted just for eyes, you might weep
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| The prize is no reward
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| I’ll concede no hope is won
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| I’ll concede no opening the only way I’ve known
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| I wouldn’t have felt this tired but we’ve run
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| And god if I had known what we’re in for, I’d hide
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| The hunt of wills, I thought, would kill me
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| And which they preyed, I saw myself draped in sheep’s skin, blood crumbs,
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| entrails
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| So which mark is seized. |
| Which one will faint?
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| I’ll concede no hope if given time
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| On high, some kind of word sent down, «give in.»
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| Nay, nay, set your sights afar. |
| We’ve strayed in weary, and were wary slain
|
| Cries in volumes, bleated strains, caught off guard and untrained |