| Girl sleeping on a mansion roof
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| Under a wintery sky
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| Wrapped she is in furs and sable,
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| Starlight in her eye
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| And what is the name of this creature?
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| Where did she live and when?
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| Who was she and why was it
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| That Peter Lake loved Beverly Penn
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| Four o’clock on a marble morning,
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| Water pouring on her skin
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| In fever her life bursts open
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| And a hurricane blows in
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| When high from the dreams of this creature
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| A thief on a horse descends
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| It was dawn and it was december
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| And Peter Lake loved Beverly Penn
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| It was all of a windy day
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| And the sky was full of crows
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| When her lovely soul ascended
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| ~ she just closed her heart and rose
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| And whither the soul of this creature?
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| Tell me the story again
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| of scarves and songs and the skin of space
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| and how Peter Lake loved Beverly Penn
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| I would dive in a freezing river,
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| set fire to a hundred men
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| if I could for just one time
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| love somebody the way that he loved Beverly Penn |