| Winter solstice, the earth open wide
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| With a heart crushed like footsteps in snow
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| (((fictitious persons disclaimers implied
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| To all listening from rooftops below)))
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| It had rained and the air was like perfume outside
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| As the sky changed
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| We began when the ground was still dry
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| Planting vineyards where vineyards don’t grow
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| Shaping cypress with pitch on both sides
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| For the nights when our trumpets won’t blow
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| That regret still there circling like vultures inside
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| As your face changed?
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| They don’t stay inside
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| (there but for Thy grace go I…)
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| Through the eyes of machines, immaculate scenes
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| That had already passed me by
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| All the stars on the ground, Noah’s ark in the clouds
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| Set sail in the flood of my mind
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| The other animals drowned in blasphemous towns
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| And asked as they passed me by:
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| «was to do as I please a European disease?»
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| Winter solstice, the earth had closed down
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| So with breastplates of righteousness low
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| Searched for streams in the caves underground
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| Where the Baptists and bootleggers go
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| And you smile but your vampire complexion still shows
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| And your past shows
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| It’s really all that shows
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| (so often unrecognizably so)
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| Through the eyes of machines viewed immaculate scenes
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| That had already passed me by
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| All the stars on the ground, Noah’s ark in the clouds
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| But the thought in the back of my mind:
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| «does my misery feed a metaphysical need
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| That’s long since passed me by
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| Neither reasoning why
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| Nor offering reply?»
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| Dear my newlywed wife
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| You’re not the love of my life
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| It had already passed me by---
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| Finally grasping the line
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| Casting pearls before swine? |