In the basement a tunnel to heaven,
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On a thin gauze morning a dark tapestry weaves,
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Gloomy faces, alone with sins,
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In the hallway with no return,
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My bird is entangled in a black bush,
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Zaneta titraina star Danica.
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And a late breath as it cools the steel,
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The scalpel slides down the thread of the rosary.
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There's a plan for the angels to steal it,
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Or at least for a moment to bring her back among them,
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Because sometimes the sky makes a great ballad
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And look for a rhyme for the main verse.
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A gentle white legion storms the city,
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January spreads its sophisticated rug,
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The first snow and I are in secret collusion,
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That winter awaits her trail,
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Not worth the stories I know,
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Lies for sleepy eyes,
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I'm making up a weird fairy tale upside down
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Lullaby,
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To stay awake from her.
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There is a path that chooses bystanders,
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Mysterious road always prone to the best,
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Because sometimes the sky only plays black races
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And look for a note for that tone.
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Somewhere I'm a confused boy
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It stands on the bridge,
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Because he just suspects you exist,
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Somewhere in you, a chained song is waiting for you
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Which no one alive knows yet,
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In you the chain rattles with secret rings,
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You will be a mother to mothers.
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There's a plan for the angels to steal from you,
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Or at least for a moment to bring you back among them,
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Because sometimes the sky makes a great ballad
|
And look for a rhyme for the main verse.
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There is a path that chooses bystanders,
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Mysterious road always prone to the best,
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Because sometimes the sky only plays black races
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And look for a note for that tone. |