| While the weary nations weep
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| Awakening me from a dream
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| I see the moonlight steal across my sheets
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| My love is lying fast asleep
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| Chasing its beams
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| She stirs, and then she turns her back to me
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| The clouds overhead open up
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| For the wicked and just all the same
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| And lay low the hills, so to fill
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| Every valley below to the brim
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| But like the sun that turns the sky
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| Illuminating all, in time
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| The tables in the temple will be turned on their side
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| And just as it scorches up the dunes
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| Beneath the height of noon
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| The pillars of the empire will be burned, in kind
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| And by the holy rock I stand
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| As blessed as the sacred ram
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| I see the trail of shoulders I’ve climbed over, but
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| By god, I’ll bloody up my hands
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| With everything I am
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| To cut away the mountains I’ve made
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| And fill the dales below |