| I slept beneath the ash trees,
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| Had visions in my dreams.
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| And I tried on a wolf suit,
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| And you tried on blue jeans.
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| And I sang you the melody
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| Of starlings on the wires.
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| Find meaning in their silhouettes,
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| On a manuscripted sky.
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| And in my dream you wore a bottle
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| On a chain around your neck,
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| With a message I had written
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| Don’t you forget,
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| We come from the lowland, we come from the lowland
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| We come from the lowland and dream of high ground.
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| You spoke of the storm clouds
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| And the tideness in your chest.
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| But I sang you from the dark skies
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| Filled the sales with my own breath.
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| And in a flash of inspiration
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| You said of every living thing,
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| With the first in all creation,
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| To live on the ground and sing.
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| We come from the lowland, we come from the lowland,
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| We come from the lowland, we come from the lowland,
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| We come from the lowland, we come from the lowland,
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| We come from the lowland, we come from the lowland,
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| We come from the lowland and dream of high ground. |