| Now the flames they followed joan of arc
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| As she came riding through the dark;
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| No moon to keep her armour bright
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| No man to get her through this very smoky night
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| She said, I’m tired of the war
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| I want the kind of work I had before
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| A wedding dress or something white
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| To wear upon my swollen appetite
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| Well, I’m glad to hear you talk this way
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| You know I’ve watched you riding every day
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| And something in me yearns to win
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| Such a cold and lonesome heroine
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| And who are you? |
| she sternly spoke
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| To the one beneath the smoke
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| Why, I’m fire, he replied
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| And I love your solitude, I love your pride
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| Then fire, make your body cold
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| I’m going to give you mine to hold
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| Saying this she climbed inside
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| To be his one, to be his only bride
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| And deep into his fiery heart
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| He took the dust of joan of arc
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| And high above the wedding guests
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| He hung the ashes of her wedding dress
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| It was deep into his fiery heart
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| He took the dust of joan of arc
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| And then she clearly understood
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| If he was fire, oh then she must be wood
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| I saw her wince, I saw her cry
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| I saw the glory in her eye
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| Myself I long for love and light
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| But must it come so cruel, and oh so bright? |