| Sitting still and looking at the angel
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| Giving life and granting all the love
|
| And I know that all of us are able
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| We can live in love above it all
|
| There’s a time of the year when you start to feel your fear
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| And you really wonder where you’re going
|
| And you know you hear the call
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| When the leaves begin to fall
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| And the melancholy’s fast approaching
|
| But with the mountains so clear
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| You know another year has gone and nearly passed you by
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| Then all you need is joy
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| Like that of a little boy
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| To live in rapturous wonder
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| Must we kiss the height of our delusion
|
| Idolize the spectra of illusion
|
| And all your prayers and tribulations
|
| Rack and tortured exaltations
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| And our cornered expectations
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| And our ferocious intimations
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| We are more
|
| How I wish that you were not deluded
|
| I sympathize, I know it’s very hard
|
| We have to live in midst of the confusion
|
| But even so we all can touch a star
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| But the greatest thing of all
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| Is the coming of the call
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| 'Cause it keeps you on your toes
|
| It’s catching
|
| And you know you got a friend
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| When you deign to let her in
|
| 'Tis the angel of the briefest passing
|
| And when the sunset’s aflame
|
| You know it’s all a game
|
| But no one really plays the same
|
| And all we got is rules
|
| To keep us from the fools
|
| That live in heartless cruelty |