| There was a wicked messenger
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| From Eli he did come,
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| With a mind that multiplied
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| The smallest matter.
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| When questioned who had sent for him,
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| He answered with his thumb,
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| For his tongue it could not speak, but only flatter.
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| He stayed behind the assembly hall,
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| It was there he made his bed,
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| Oftentimes he could be seen returning.
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| Until one day he just appeared
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| With a note in his hand which read,
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| «The soles of my feet, I swear they’re burning.»
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| Oh, the leaves began to fallin'
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| And the seas began to part,
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| And the people that confronted him were many.
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| And he was told but these few words,
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| Which opened up his heart,
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| «If ye cannot bring good news, then don’t bring any.» |