| All the trees stood like skeletons
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| Silhouettes of spilled ink
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| And the snows fell in sheets and got wrapped around our feet
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| We built the fire evermore with winter beating at the door
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| Brother’s eyes were getting heavier
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| His bony hands cold and white
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| And I could hear his ragged breathing like the wind along a knife
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| There beside him through the night, in the hum of candlelight
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| I no longer felt the time
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| Brother woke just after midnight
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| And he didn’t make a sound
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| And as he climbed from out of bed with severed rings around his head
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| His feet didn’t touch the ground
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| I could feel it then
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| A tiny miracle
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| So I followed him
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| Into the woods
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| Crossed beneath the trees
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| But only I left my prints in tow
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| He was afloat
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| Found a lonely tree
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| And tied himself within its limbs
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| And he said to me these words:
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| Don’t you fear for me
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| I am where I’m supposed to be
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| And when I woke he was gone
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| And I was wrapped in blankets on the lawn
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| The sky was blue and my skin matched the hue
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| And I could hear mother crying in your room
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| From here on out I wear this face for both of us |