| No this dan on the mountain
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| Twilight on the town
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| Fireflies trickles around when the moon is low and round
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| I’m a monk without a temple
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| I’m the only home that I found
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| When I’m there in spirit and the fury and the sound
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| Oh I’m there
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| We were singing hallelujah
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| With our faces in the dust
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| Sometimes so pretty that the tear drops heal the rust
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| I was turning over stone looking for someone to trust
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| You were there in spirit you were much more than enough
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| You were there
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| There’s a quiet little church
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| On every city bridge
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| But those were nothing
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| Carrying nothing out onto the ledge
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| How much tender mercy you prepared to give
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| Are you there in spirit with the
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| Where the boring spirit lives
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| Are you there
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| There is nothing you stand to lose
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| There is nothing you get to keep
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| Then walk upon the bones that nature laid to sleep
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| Oh I hear a shepherd plannings
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| If it lose it’s just one sheep
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| Either they in spirit
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| You drown three inches deep
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| But are you there
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| It’s so hard to work the garden
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| Your fingers keeping scores
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| Be a driftwood of a love that’s holding to shore
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| Plus the night train carries you through you sleep through the storm
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| Are you there in the spirit
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| And the stillness in this warm
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| Are you there
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| Are you there
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| Are you there
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| Are you there
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| Are you there
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| Are you there |