| Was it summer when the river ran dry
|
| Or was it just another dam
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| When the evil of a snowflake in June
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| Could still be a source of relief
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| O how I love you, I once cried long ago
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| But I was the one who decided to go
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| To search beyond the final crest
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| Though I’d heard it said just birds could dwell so high
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| So I pretended to have wings for my arms
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| And took off in the air
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| I flew to places which the clouds never see
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| Too close to the deserts of sand
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| Where a thousand mirages, the shepherds of lies
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| Forced me to land and take a disguise
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| I would welcome a horses kick to send me back
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| If I could find a horse not made of sand
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| If this deserts all there’ll ever be
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| Then tell me what becomes of me
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| A fall of rain
|
| That must have been another of your dreams
|
| A dream of mad man moon
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| Hey man
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| I’m the sand man
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| And boy have I news for you;
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| They’re gonna throw you in jail
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| And you know they can’t fail
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| Cos sand is thicker than blood
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| But a prison in sand
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| Is a haven in hell
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| For a jail can give you a goal
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| goal can find you a role
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| On a muddy pitch in Newcastle
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| Where it rains so much
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| You can’t wait for a touch
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| Of sun and sand, sun and sand…
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| Within the valley of shadow-less death
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| They pray for thunderclouds and rain
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| But to the multitude who stand in the rain
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| Heaven is where the sun shines
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| The grass will be greener till the stems turn to brown
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| And thoughts will fly higher till the earth brings them down
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| Forever caught in desert lands
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| One has to learn to disbelieve the sea
|
| If this deserts all there’ll ever be
|
| Then tell me what becomes of me
|
| A fall of rain?
|
| That must have been another of your dreams
|
| A dream of mad man moon |