| Are you the sun, or are you the moon?
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| Shall I speak or is it too soon?
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| When you take all the blankets when we sleep
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| Am I the watchman at our keep,
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| Or does anything matter to you?
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| When you’re down in sleep’s dark bliss
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| Do I play you with a kiss
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| Or does it all fall on deaf skin
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| When I’m awake and you’re all in
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| At the table of the Styx?
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| Do I place a coin in your mouth
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| As you murmur, drifting south
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| Like Ophelia at the end
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| Or Elaine all wrapped in linen
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| Or do I lie and try to rest
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| With an arm under your neck
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| What good is stillness when you’re gone?
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| At least I can hum a song
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| Why would I ever lie
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| Would it be just to find myself beside you
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| A dream half-dead?
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| How could I ever live
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| With the blood of a half-formed bird upon me,
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| Draped on my head?
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| How could I?
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| The light, it asks to peer through
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| So we’ve survived another day
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| How could I nigh deceive you?
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| When I’m just a broken knave?
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| How could I? |