| Like a rolling tide
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| Like a gentle slide nears the point where you and I converge
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| I won’t have you say that my wilful ways is a vast new land just now emerging
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| You know what I am
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| I’m the fire you thought you’d lost
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| I’m that breathless touch of frost
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| The one spell that will endure
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| The cancer and now the cure
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| And you seem to find a pleasant peace of mind in the fact that I’d take on the
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| world for you
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| Does it strike you then, when you withdraw again, that it might be worth your
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| while to see it through?
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| Make a leap of faith
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| Trust the riddles and the signs
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| Cross that cold, forbidding line
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| Find the trail between the words and chase down what you have stirred
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| 'Cause I know you feel it change
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| From a whisper to a storm
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| From a keyhole to a door
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| From a flow of honeyed brine
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| To your tremors locked in mine
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| I was never moved by serenades beneath my window, but by your gentle touch on
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| my spirit and on me
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| I am!
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| I am spirit, I am clay
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| I am growth and I’m decay
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| I’m a saint ablaze with sin and I end where I begin
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| And I will not be defined by another’s set of rules; |
| by a Reason void of Truth
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| My own path is mine to choose, but my heart is all for you
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| It’s the little things, like this need to sing
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| Like the way your voice resounds in me
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| Like the way you resound in me |