| When first I came into this land in the highlands I did dwell
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| Where ancient learned masters taught the depths of wisdom’s well
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| Emmanuelle she walked with me, and secrets she did share
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| The order of the swirling stars, the laws of earth and air
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| The golden pipes of heaven she entrusted in my care
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| And I sang of the mercy of Emmanuelle
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| In time I went a’wandring into the world of man
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| And though I knew the sacrd songs my separate dreams began
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| And when I thought the pipes were mine my eyes grew blind as well
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| My soul from heights of heaven fell, Emmanuelle
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| Slumbering, sleeping, slipping through seasons of silent lives
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| A servant, a snake, a soldier, a storm
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| A poet, a mother, a child stillborn
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| A rock, a star, a drunk in a bar
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| How many more times dancing the skin dance
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| Serving the systems of violence and romance
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| Sobbing the sorrow, walking the wheel
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| Hiding the horror, fighting the feel
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| Pushing the will like a rock up a hill
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| Until, until, until
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| I’m drawn so slowly step by step out of this darkened place
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| So unaccustomed to the light, so wary of its grace
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| Oh how I long to hear the pipes I held before I fell
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| And sing the ancient songs of love, Emmanuelle |