| That murmuration of starlings
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| Is stuck in my head, stuck in my head
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| Oh, the fear I can hear it beating your chest
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| That beating your chest
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| There won’t be no easy escaping
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| Just take my hand
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| It won’t just blow away
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| Like my Cavendish can
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| So let it burn, let the fire take what it may
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| It’ll turn to ash if it’s meant to and we’ll be okay
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| Let it go, let the moon surrender and wane
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| Long as the altar holds what it’s meant to
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| And, darling, and we remain
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| We remain
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| Oh, now look to the mountain
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| It’s snowing again, it’s snowing again
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| That chest that was heavy and heaving is breathing again
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| I’m breathing again
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| There won’t be a thing that we needed
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| We needed anyway, didn’t need it anyway
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| Ease is only a burden removed by pain
|
| So let it burn, let the fire take what it may
|
| It’ll turn to ash if it’s mean to and we’ll be okay
|
| Let it go, let the moon surrender and wane
|
| Long as the altar holds what it’s meant to
|
| Darling, and we remain
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| Yeah, oh we remain
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| Hallelujah
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| Hallelujah
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| Hallelujah
|
| Hallelujah
|
| So let it burn, let the fire take what it may
|
| It’ll turn to ash if it’s mean to and we’ll be okay
|
| Let it go, let the moon surrender and wane
|
| Long as the altar holds what it’s meant to
|
| Darling, and we remain
|
| And we remain
|
| Ours is a luxury gone sour (ooh…)
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| Ours is a love gone so sweet |