| The choice was mine, and mine completely
|
| I could have any prize that I desired
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| I could burn with the splendor of the brightest fire
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| Or else, or else I could choose time
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| Remember I was very young then
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| And a year was forever and a day
|
| So what use could fifty, sixty, seventy be?
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| I saw the lights, and I was on my way
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| And how I lived, how they shone
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| But how soon the lights were gone
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| The choice was yours and noone else’s
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| You can cry for a body in despair
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| Hang your head because she is no longer there
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| To shine, to dazzle, or betray
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| How she lived, how she shone
|
| But how soon the lights were gone
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| Eyes, hair, face, image
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| All must be preserved
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| Still life displayed forever
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| No less than she deserved |