| Take an axe to your past, to your family tree
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| Carve a face from the wood, an effigy
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| Make wings from the leaves, hide from the bark
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| Kindling for the hair, rose for his heart
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| Someone to draw you right
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| Someone to catch the light
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| Draw the blue from the skies into his eyes
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| Carve the lines on his face, a map of the race
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| Juice from the root of a beet for his skin
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| Set the tides of the blood with the pulse of the drum
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| Someone to draw you right
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| Someone to catch the light
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| I’m alive, I’m alive
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| Wash the boy in the stream, so tenderly
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| Press his lips to your lips, give him your breath
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| He awakes with the weight of the vision he holds
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| Sees the rent in time through which he must fold
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| Someone to draw you right
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| Someone to catch the light
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| I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m alive
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| I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m alive
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| Stir the heart with a drum, kiss smoke in his mouth
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| Show him signs of a life that’s a whole lot better
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| And he calls down the rain, tornadoes and hurricanes
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| There’s a world in his veins that’s a whole lot better
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| I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m alive
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| I’m alive, I’m alive
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| Fingers raised to the sky, a snake for a spine
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| He’s drunk on a life that’s a whole lot better
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| Teach him songs of the bees, double helix and honey comb
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| Play him wind through the leaves that’s a whole lot better
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| Alive, I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m alive
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| I’m alive, I’m alive |