| We might suppose that this is love
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| We might become like broken mirrors
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| Reflecting mere shapes and shades, until we have faces
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| Drifting through our paradoxes
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| Until we have faces
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| Prisoner: disappeared for the sake of the world
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| «Behold, I make all things anew»
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| Feel me, alert to the sound of your heart
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| I drowned in the desert to the thirst for the sea
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| Disguised by the light to blind the dark in me
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| I drowned in the desert to thirst for the sea
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| At the death of the garden plant the seeds of eternity
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| He’s watching over us
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| She’s watching over us
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| Sleeper: A prison comprised of self
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| «Behold, I make all things anew»
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| Feel me, alert to the sound of your breath
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| (Prisoner)
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| Love is the pasture in the House of the Lord
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| A jubilee economy for none to afford
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| (The fire is surrounding!)
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| And our fabric was woven piece by piece
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| And all the while we sat singing «Sweet sleep surround surcease»
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| (Prisoner)
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| Revel in reticent revelations
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| As movements of the Spirit extinguish this distinguishing conflagration
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| (You sleep safe in your cell!)
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| Lines were tearing out that negative space
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| Defined by figure eight patterns bringing us face to face
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| Prisoner
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| The fire is surrounding
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| Prisoner
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| You sleep safe in your cell |