| Across the cedar covered river
|
| Within the night that covers them
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| Up the hill toward dark gates
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| An approach so sweet yet again
|
| Proffer the sightless with wine
|
| Crank the old gramophone
|
| To go up and dance with the blind girls
|
| A secret so holy and dire
|
| To waltz in the arms of innocence
|
| Hushed delights from the choir
|
| Shadows long and playful
|
| Cast with broken old candles
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| Gowns worn and stressed
|
| Yet graceful in tired old sandals
|
| Strike up the scratchy old music
|
| Tonight they won’t dance alone
|
| Alas, the music does fade
|
| Back to the village they creep
|
| And leave the sanatorium
|
| Its bars and rules, Just so |