| Solitude in the ivory pool, with oily rags and painted hags
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| There is no soil in this tired soul
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| Just the thin breast bone of the invading stone
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| And out of the way, through the window deep in the clay
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| With slanted eyes and narrow hands
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| That gentleman’s' face is sombre -caped
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| Snug and still with his drum and bill
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| Black as Death, and hot as Hell!
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| I came looking for you, in famous halls
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| With guns and celebration balls where
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| I dreamt I was a man, but now that dream is over
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| They numbered my bones and lest you forget
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| The Flim Flam Man is part of the plan
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| Fight all the goddams! |
| Fight the Dancing Man!
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| Fading in the mirror, follow in the flame
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| And the blackness of your soul is the only goal you pay heed to
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| Master face, never let you down, we dream
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| Sorrow day is upon us now, we dream
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| Build it up then break it down, we dream
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| I dream |