| Through the hem of evening
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| Into the flesh of the night
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| You step out to receive them
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| In the bruising light
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| You leave your bed of novels
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| You leave your hovering crown
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| You leave your wit and your mettle
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| And you come down
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| But it’s only a minute then
|
| Til the hole in the canvas spreads
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| And it grows til there’s nothing left
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| So if you even remember
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| Me after all that will come
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| Think of all i intended
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| Not what i’ve done
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| See me like an arrow
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| Still upon the bow
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| Set to the heart of the target
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| Hanging bright above
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| But it’s only a minute then
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| Til the shot is released and sent
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| And lost to the shifting wind
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| Oh they don’t know you, not like i do, not like us, harriet
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| But they would love you, just like i do, if they could, harriet
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| Cause what you are, and what you want, are so far apart, and they’re travelling
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| on
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| Oh what you are is staggering drunk, but i’ll pick you up and i’ll carry you off
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| Oh they don’t know you, not like i know you, not like us, harriet
|
| But they would love you, just like i love you, if they could, harriet |