| Send a prayer out there into the universe
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| And wait for an answer my friend
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| Maybe you will hear from me an echo in the wind
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| And a song that has no end
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| With a head full of books he’d forgotten
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| Bad memories from days in the war
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| Crowded out by the tales of tall cotton
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| Why can’t all things be just like before
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| The world though the eyes of my father
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| Repeating mistakes that he made
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| Refusing to lose the illusion
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| That one day he would lead the parade
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| Now he sits in the library day after day
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| With a wire a compass and pen
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| Uncovering a secret so long lost away
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| That will never be spoken again
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| Inventor of stories so deep in the heart
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| That will only come out in a dream
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| We can carve out a place or reverse into space
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| In the next world we’ll know what they mean
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| We were climbing the steps to the graveyard
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| With regrets and our baggage in tow
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| From the cliffs of the Ardarine mountains
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| You can see the sweet memories below
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| There was nothing here left but a portrait
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| On a mission here only to serve
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| An empty room with a glass and a bottle
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| It’s all that us free men deserve |