| As one child is taught red on his mother’s knee — the one true colour
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| A neighbor is taught blue on his mother’s knee — the one true colour
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| With a fervour inherited, it will be subsequently delivered
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| Ignore the spectrum
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| Dear whom it may concern,
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| I feel as though I’m about to crash and burn
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| I think I’m falling and there’s no return
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| But I’ve no idea to whom this may concern
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| I’m looking out at all the stars and I learn
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| There’s no one up above to hear me yearn
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| I’m on my own
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| In the arena of the endless unknown
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| Do not stage theatre and call it truth
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| And when one child is taught red on his mother’s knee
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| It must be subsequently delivered
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| With all of the spectrum
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| Someone has whipped the carpet from beneath my feet
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| Someone upturned the furniture in my mind
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| But oh how rich the soil
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| How wondrous the upheaval
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| It’s time to embark…
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| To dissect is to broaden the adventure
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| And enrich one’s tenure
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| So do not blunt the surgeon’s knife
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| There’s so much to explore; |
| there’s so much to absorb
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| And then the atoms that you borrowed
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| They are returned to the cosmos
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| They are returned when you’re… |