| Standing in the ocean with the sun burning low in the west
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| Like a fire in the cavernous darkness at the heart of the beast
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| With my beliefs and possessions, stopped at the frontier in my chest
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| At the edge of my country, my back to the sea, looking east
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| Where the search for the truth is conducted with a wink and a nod
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| And where power and position are equated with the grace of God
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| These times are famine for the soul while for the senses it’s a feast
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| From the edge of my country, as far as you see, looking east
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| Hunger in the midnight, hunger at the stroke of noon
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| Hunger in the mansion, hunger in the rented room
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| Hunger on the TV, hunger on the printed page
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| And there’s a God-sized hunger underneath the laughing and the rage
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| In the absence of light
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| And the deepening night
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| Where I wait for the sun
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| Looking east
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| How long have I left my mind to the powers that be?
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| How long will it take to find the higher power moving in me?
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| Power in the insect
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| Power in the sea
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| Power in the snow falling silently
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| Power in the blossom
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| Power in the stone
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| Power in the song being sung alone
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| Power in the wheatfield
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| Power in the rain
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| Power in the sunlight and the hurricane
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| Power in the silence
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| Power in the flame
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| Power in the sound of the lover’s name
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| The power of the sunrise and the power of a prayer released
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| On the edge of my country, I pray for the ones with the least
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| Hunger in the midnight, hunger at the stroke of noon
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| Hunger in the banquet, hunger in the bride and groom
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| Hunger on the TV, hunger on the printed page
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| And there’s a God-sized hunger underneath the questions of the age
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| And an absence of light
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| In the deepening night
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| Where I wait for the sun
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| Looking east |