| Once she had drowned and started her slow descent
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| Down the streams to where the great rivers broaden
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| Oh, the open sky chant most magnificent
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| As if it was acting as her body’s guardian
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| Wreck and duck weed slowly increased her weight
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| By clasping her in their slimy grip
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| Through her limbs, the cold blooded fishes played
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| Creatures and plant life kept on, thus obstructing her last trip
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| And the sky that same evening grew dark as smoke
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| And its stars through the night kept the brightness still soaring
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| But it quickly grew clear when dawn now broke
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| To see that she got one further morning
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| Once her pallid trunk had rotted beyond repair
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| It happened quite slowly that she gently slipped from God’s thoughts
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| First with her face, then her hands, right at the last with her hair
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| Leaving those corpse-choked rivers just one more corpse |