| Now the pale morning sings of forgotten things
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| She plays a tune for those who wish to overlook
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| The fact that they've been blindly deceived
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| By those who preach and pray and teach
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| But she falls short and the night explodes in laughter
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| But don't you come here and say I didn't warn you
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| About the way your world can alter
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| And oh how you try to command it all still
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| Every single time it all shifts one way or the other
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| And I'm a goddamn coward, but then again so are you
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| And the lion's roar, the lion's roar
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| Has me evading and hollering for you
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| And I never really knew what to do
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| Now I guess sometimes I wish you were a little more predictable
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| That I could read you just like a book
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| For now I can only guess what's coming next
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| By examining your timid smile
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| And the ways of the old, old winds blowing you back around
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| And I'm a goddamn fool, but then again so are you
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| And the lion's roar, the lion's roar
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| Has me seeking out and searching for you
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| And I never really knew what to do
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| Sometimes I wish I could find my Rosemary Hill
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| I'd sit there and look at the deserted lakes and I'd sing
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| And every once in a while I'd sing a song for you
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| That would rise above the mountains and the stars and the sea
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| And if I wanted it to it would lead you back to me
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| And the lion's roar, the lion's roar
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| Is something that I have heard before
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| A children's tale, the lonesome wail of a lion's roar |