| Silvia was struck by lightning
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| While reading in bed one night
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| She left the windows open
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| And the storm caught her by surprise
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| For a day she laid here still as a stone
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| Clipped to pumps and tubes
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| Then out her window the street lights flashed
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| And at last, her fingers moved
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| She awoke to a cacophony of electric radio waves
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| Pulsing rays of energy falling from outer space
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| High and swaying towers
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| Down in basements full of dust
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| She could not escape the sterling
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| Or the 60 cycle arm
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| She moved on, tempted spectacles
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| Several fur lion capes
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| 3 pairs of velvet gloves
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| A vain of dotted Swiss
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| But all the earth’s vibrations
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| Still pounded through her ears
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| So she packed a steamer trunk
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| And flew a prop plane to Belize
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| From there a log raft took her
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| Over raging waterfalls
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| Deep within uncharted jungle
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| Where giant caterpillars crawl
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| The spun their silk around her
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| A cocoon between the trees
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| And still she hangs there swinging
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| Deep within the dripping leafs
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| Keeping time with every rumble
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| Every quiver of the earth
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| And she slowly changes shape
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| With the turning of the world |