| Hope’s a dark horse and it shows no sign
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| Of having gone before you
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| And as a matter of course, call it chance or design
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| It never seems to ignore you
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| It hides in the shadow of several dark alleys
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| And then when you least expect
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| It bites through the marrow and fills the dead valleys
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| With grass and peace and insence
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| Hold me close and hold me strong
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| Hold me pure and hold me long
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| Hold me dark and hold me light
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| Hold me wrong and hold me right
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| Hope is a sword with both sides as sharp
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| As the other as sharp as the other
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| And it cuts you of course and it cuts to the heart
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| It cuts all your sisters and brothers
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| It cannot be blunted by roughest of stones
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| And the wounds will not lose their sting
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| They just grow deeper 'til they cut through the bones
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| Fill you up with the heartache and peace about things
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| Hold me close and hold me strong
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| Hold me pure and hold me long
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| Hold me dark and hold me light
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| Hold me wrong, hold me right
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| Hold me close and hold me strong
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| Hold me pure and hold me long
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| Hold me dark and hold me light
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| Hold me wrong and hold me right |