| And my tunes were played on the harp unstrung
|
| Would you hear my voice come through the music?
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| Would you hold it near as it were your own?
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| It’s a hand-me-down, the thoughts are broken
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| Perhaps they’re better left unsung
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| I don’t know, don’t really care
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| Let there be songs to fill the air
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| Ripple in still water
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| When there is no pebble tossed
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| Nor wind to blow
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| Reach out your hand, if your cup be empty
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| If your cup is full, may it be again
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| Let it be known there is a fountain
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| That was not made by the hands of men
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| There is a road, no simple highway
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| Between the dawn and the dark of night
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| And if you go, no one may follow
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| That path is for your steps alone
|
| Ripple in still water
|
| When there is no pebble tossed
|
| Nor wind to blow
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| You who choose to lead must follow
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| But if you fall you fall alone
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| If you should stand then who’s to guide you?
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| If I knew the way I would take you home |