| Six o' clock
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| In the morning, I feel pretty good
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| So I dropped into the luxury of the Lords
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| Fighting dragons and crossing swords
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| With the people against the hordes
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| Who came to conquer
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| Seven o’clock
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| In the morning, here it comes
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| I taste the warning and I am so amazed
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| I’m here today, seeing things so clear this way
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| In the car and on my way
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| To Stonehenge
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| I’m flying in Winchester cathedral
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| Sunlight pouring through the break of day
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| Stumbled through the door and into the chamber;
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| There’s a lady setting flowers on a table covered lace
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| And a cleaner in the distance finds a cobweb on a face
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| And a feeling deep inside of me tells me
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| This can’t be the place
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| I’m flying in Winchester cathedral
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| All religion has to have its day
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| Expressions on the face of the Saviour
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| Made me say
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| I can’t stay
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| Open up the gates of the church and let me out of here!
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| Too many people have lied in the name of Christ
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| For anyone to heed the call
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| So many people have died in the name of Christ
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| That I can’t believe it all
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| And now I’m standing on the grave of a soldier that died in 1799
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| And the day he died it was a birthday
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| And I noticed it was mine
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| And my head didn’t know just who I was
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| And I went spinning back in time
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| And I am high upon the altar
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| High upon the altar, high
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| I’m flying in Winchester cathedral
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| It’s hard enough to drink the wine
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| The air inside just hangs in delusion
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| But given time
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| I’ll be fine |