| It all began in sand and dreams
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| I was blind but there was nothing to see
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| It all began with prayer and praise
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| But there was nothing new written on the wall that day
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| It all began with fear and falling
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| With wings on fire, I can tell that something’s burning
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| I can tell that something’s burning
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| And it all began here
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| It all began when I followed the line
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| Now broken down, my hope that ended
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| With this, fall to the ground now
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| So broken and my home is empty
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| With this cold inside, this rage
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| And I am old and slaves are bought and sold for gold
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| And that means nothing to me now
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| That means nothing to me
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| In these soft spaces
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| In these stone fields
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| In these high places
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| I will heal
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| What may be revealed now
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| What may be shown
|
| What may be spoken now
|
| What may be known
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| These things once locked in silence
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| Now return to me
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| These things once locked in silence
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| Now return to me
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| Stoned and sold and left for dead
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| In a circle held in place in time
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| And if I choose to fall again
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| At least I know the choice is mine
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| At least I know this voice is mine
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| At least I know the choice is mine
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| At least I know this voice is mine
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| What may be revealed now
|
| What may be shown
|
| What may be spoken now
|
| What may be known
|
| These things once locked in silence
|
| Now return to me
|
| These things once locked in silence
|
| Now return to me |