| A tall thing that could rise to any occasion
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| Something unspoken, a whisper always heard
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| And you and I cherish this thing more than forever
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| Smarting, it stings now in the pass
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| And if we tear this kingdom down, tear it down
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| Let it be with a deserving and joyous sound
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| Whistling river in the split of a desert drying
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| A mirror to reflect what you always must see
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| And paradise we agreed was a portrait of the two of us
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| Well the pictures are fragile and the ideas taking the trees
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| And if we tear this kingdom down, tear it down
|
| Let it be with a deserving and joyous sound
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| In the form of this burned up basement
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| We’ll mourn all that used to be
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| And the chalk scrawls out the shape of our bodies
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| And the crows move faster than we can see
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| And if we tear this kingdom down, tear it down
|
| Let it be with a deserving and joyous sound
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| In the midst of this deadly hunger
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| I am starving for a feast
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| But from the distance a dusk is rapidly approaching
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| Promising cold only after it cuts
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| And if we tear this kingdom down, tear it down
|
| Let it be with a deserving and joyous sound |