| The countryside was out of sight
|
| The sky was acid blue
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| The saplings were beside themselves
|
| The storm had passed on through
|
| The trees were wearing racing silks
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| A vibrant grass-snake green
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| With maidens clutching violets
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| In many shades between
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| But somewhere in the distance
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| I could hear the tolling bell
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| I saw myself reflecting back
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| Face down in the well
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| The tolling bell reminded me
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| Of someone I had lost
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| I could not quite remember who
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| Or what had been the cost
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| Naked from the waist up
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| Naked upside down
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| No matter how you break your fall
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| You sure as hell will drown
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| The hounds from hell were howling
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| For the many wasted years
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| While every sin was washed away
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| With semi-precious tears
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| Some said it was suicide
|
| Others first degree
|
| No matter what the paradox
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| Was somehow lost on me
|
| The courage of a patient man
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| Is measured in his pace
|
| While some may take the higher ground
|
| Others run the race
|
| Some folks do the dandy strut
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| And trade as ne’er do well
|
| But I have always please myself
|
| Somewhere in the distance
|
| I could hear the rebel yell
|
| I saw myself reflecting back
|
| Face down in the well |