| On the day we’re born our soul is placed inside a special spacesuit
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| An amazing thing of flesh and bones, of fiber, tubes and cells
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| Each suit is a different size, a different shape and color
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| And it helps us get about the earth with other types of shells
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| Astounding as it seems these suits are built to last a lifetime
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| Though the measure of a lifetime seems to change from soul to soul
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| Some will last for many years and others but a moment
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| Still, each suit has been assembled with a purpose and a goal
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| The control box for this special suit’s located in three places
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| And at any given time there’s always one that takes the lead
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| Causing all the other parts to follow blindly without question
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| As they try to give the soul the things it needs
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| The head (or brain) will analyze environmental input
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| Using logic, rhyme and reason to design the body’s plan
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| The groin, much on the other hand, will travel on its instincts
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| Hooking one suit to another when it can
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| But somewhere in the middle is the most amazing feature
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| Often acting as the liaison; |
| connecting part to part
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| It’s the auricle of destiny, the pulse of life, the center:
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| It’s the thing we have in common called the heart
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| On the day we die, though certainly it’s open for discussion
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| I believe the spacesuit has fufilled its earthly chores
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| Providing home and shelter for the fragile human spirit
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| Till the time when it’s not needed anymore
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| Then the soul will find another suit (it's kind of like recycling)
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| And though the lessons of the mind and of the groin are still in doubt
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| It’s when we learn to speak and listen firstly from the heart
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| That our souls won’t need these suits to move about
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| Somewhere in the middle is the most amazing feature
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| Often acting as the liaison; |
| connecting part to part
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| No sweeter music ever came from any other organ
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| Than the one we have in common (the one we have in common)
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| The one we have in common called the heart |