| I have never known peace like the damp grass that yields to me
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| I have never known hunger like these insects that feast on me
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| A thousand teeth and yours among them, I know
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| Our hungers appeased, our heart beats becoming slow
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| We’ll lay here for years or for hours
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| Thrown here or found, to freeze or to thaw
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| So long, we’d become the flowers
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| Two corpses we were, two corpses I saw
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| And they’d find us in a week
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| When the weather gets hot
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| After the insects have made their claim
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| I’ll be home with you, I’ll be home with you
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| I have never known sleep like this slumber that creeps to me
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| I have never known colors like this morning reveals to me And you haven’t moved an inch such that I would not know
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| If you sleep always like this, flesh calmly going cold
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| We’ll lay here for years or for hours
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| Your hand in my hand, so still and discreet
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| So long, we’d become the flowers
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| We’d feed well the land and worry the sheep
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| And they’d find us in a week
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| When the cattle’d show fear
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| After the insects have made their claim
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| After the foxes have known our taste
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| I’ll be home with you, I’ll be home with you
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| And they’d find us in a week
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| When the buzzards get loud
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| After the insects have made their claim
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| After the foxes have known our taste
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| After the raven has had his say
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| I’ll be home with you, I’ll be home with you
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| I’ll be home with you, I’ll be home with you
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| I’ll be home with you, I’ll be home with you |