| FERDINAND:
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| You the coverclouds in a midnight sky
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| I, a little snowflake waxwing high
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| Erring on the delicate side:
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| Who can mark the hour our soul sick friendships die?
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| MARIA:
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| Ever felt like Noah on an overcast day?
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| David, take down your harp and play
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| FERDINAND:
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| You hatched your little plan when the first fell through?
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| The wicked in you ran, though none pursued!
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| MARIA:
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| You’re toeing a precarious line
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| Silk shirt for a sackcloth king---
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| David, take down your harp and sing!
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| FERDINAND:
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| Clockwork drama in a Josten’s ring
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| Ever on the verge of catastrophe…
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| King of Spain, Queen of Portugal
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| MARIA:
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| I ran to the sea but the sea wouldn’t hide me
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| The oceans agree there was no one to hide!
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| Will my story give way to the weight of its gravity?
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| ~self-appointed-cop-and-spokesman-of-the-end-times~
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| FERDINAND:
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| Knockneed step and a bent-back spine
|
| No sense of direction besides…
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| MARIA:
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| Patterns in the clouds over lake Cascade!
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| Message in the sounds of the Air Force planes!
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| [offers claims on an extravagant scale in
|
| Elaborate (if laminated poster board) display about chemtrails]
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| Tinky’s harp on the wall next to Janis Joplin!
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| FERDINAND:
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| Man, I coulda sworn that I saw
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| The cosmos in the livestock straw…
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| MARIA:
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| Early cartography sea creature dragon and all?
|
| King of Spain, our songs proclaim
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| That you’re Queen of Portugal
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| King of Spain, our prayers in vain
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| Till you’re Queen of Portugal
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| Owls now sail toward seas of Africa
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| ---flee, thou matadors!
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| Courts of dandelions
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| Wars of Oranges have conquered us! |