| And so the grotesque clowns wander
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| But unlike the prophets, they squander
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| In the desert over yonder
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| And I’ve traveled so long to sit and groan
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| And I’ve traveled so far to be so alone
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| And I’ve traveled so long to sit and groan
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| And I’ve traveled so far to be so alone
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| Just the drab furniture and the terrible thoughts that led me here
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| To the middle of an arid desert
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| One where God erected tall mountains
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| And once sent His missioned prophets
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| But now remains only deadly serpents and prickly thicket
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| Whose backs are beaten by a boiling star
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| That keeps this circus in town
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| I tell ya, the clowns are crying along with the children they terrorize
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| God damn it, God damn it!
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| Someone tell them the circus caravan left
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| The circus caravan left
|
| And there’s no more fun to be had
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| The opportunity to get another bite of the apple
|
| Amid a barren chapel
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| Where knees once bent for a celestial master
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| Who would change their forsaken lot
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| But I know that the desert and the mountains and the fruit and even the clowns
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| And serpents will bring the truth of my exile
|
| Then finally, the oneiric pestilence will recede into
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| The shadows of the black cadejo
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| Sure as poison
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| Sure as the staff of Moses |