| Patience my heart
|
| Don’t rush in
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| Let this hunger forsake
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| All that evil that waits courageous
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| Her body is the temple
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| I must enter
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| As an armoured poet crawling under the wires left by her
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| Say, you can hear them
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| Black doves sing for you
|
| As the rhythm starts again
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| Drums awake these tombs
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| Resurrection for the dead
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| A Creole distant gloom
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| You can never own me
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| Like you own the desert
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| You can never burn me
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| As if you were the sun
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| You will never possess me like your own
|
| Sahara in an hourglass
|
| Reason with me (contradictions again)
|
| Humor me
|
| If it’s dry as this ink, made by queens for their kings, heads will roll
|
| Frozen by words (No answer so cold)
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| Howling winds (heading north)
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| A creation supreme for the blind and the week, pyramid
|
| Say, you can hear them…
|
| You can never own me…
|
| What if redemption was an art for the damned
|
| The opposite reflection showing us our true sense
|
| You can never own me… (I can’t carry this weight)
|
| You can never burn me… (It's too heavy for me, I’ve seen too much)
|
| Sahara, Sahara, Sahara… you dry my eyes
|
| In an hourglass |