| The silent prophet
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| Seeks his inspiration after midnight
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| With a candle lit for comfort
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| In the shadow of the shade
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| Belladonna
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| Waves a parasol beneath the window
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| So enchanting and inviting
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| In the scheme that she has laid
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| The lonely prophet
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| Waves to Belladonna from the window
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| In the hope that she will notice
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| And may wish to know his name
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| But cruel Belladonna
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| Turns to face the waiting sunrise
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| With its promise of excitement
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| Thinking little of the game
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| Shine your lantern brightly
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| Do not heed the darkness lightly
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| We must always talk politely
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| In the presence of the night
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| Deadly nightshade
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| Hear me calling
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| Shadows of the evening
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| Falling down
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| The quiet prophet
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| Gathers up his papers for the fire
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| He alone will read the message
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| In the words that he has burned
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| Belladonna tries the door
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| To find the room is empty
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| And she coldly rakes the ashes
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| For the love that she has spurned |