| It came upon the midnight clear:
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| That glorious sign of old
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| Enraptured secret sign of fear
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| In brave disguises
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| Old shoes and thirty feet
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| The prophet sighed of prophecy
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| I resign to petty things
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| Like angels bending on their knees
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| Do you delight, do you delight in me?
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| (I laughed about it)
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| Come to me now, come to me now and bring
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| (That rapturous moment)
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| I wasn’t changed, I wasn’t changed one bit
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| (Though you may doubt it)
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| And I don’t suppose, I don’t suppose you care?
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| (To ask about it)
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| The dead of winter takes a grip
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| And moves around us
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| All night our labors clap and kiss
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| Like working mothers
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| Old wounds and thirty feet
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| The clock it sounds of properties
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| I resign to glorious things
|
| Like angels bending on their knees
|
| Do you delight, do you delight in me?
|
| (I laughed about it)
|
| Come to me now, come to me now and bring
|
| (That rapturous moment)
|
| I wasn’t changed, I wasn’t changed one bit
|
| (Though you may doubt it)
|
| And I don’t suppose, I don’t suppose you care?
|
| (To ask about it)
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| I will delight, I will delight in this
|
| (Though you may doubt it)
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| Come to me now, come to me now, my kiss
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| (And ask about it)
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| I will delight, I will delight in this
|
| (Though you may doubt it)
|
| Come to me now, come to me now, my kiss |