| Forty-seven strings are pulled
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| By this angelic «beating"girl
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| And it breaks our hearts to hear
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| The music that comes out of her.
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| Shoulders hang on folded chairs
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| This will be our church tonight
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| We have dug out foxholes here
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| Not an atheist in sight.
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| Laughing shaking taking oaths
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| Breaking sacramental cups
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| We pour the magic in our coats
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| Thinking it can leave with us.
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| But it’s the wrong way out
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| 20 steps but it’s so harming
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| When they talk out loud
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| Bend to brace your fingers on me
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| I’ve been breathing evil air
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| Sharing needles with the sky
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| Looking up remembering
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| Regina said they’re just old light.
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| But you somehow understood
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| My oversaturated skin
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| You held your hand up to my neck
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| And played me like a theremin
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| I see London I see France
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| And all the things that we won’t do
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| And if I never leave this chair
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| Maybe I can go with you.
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| But it’s a long way out
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| 20 steps but it’s so harming
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| When they talk out loud
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| Bend to brace your fingers on me
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| It’s a long way out
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| Past the bar and past the awning
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| Past the easy crowd
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| Back into the end
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| We have found our solace here
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| In this unexpected place
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| Like a startled, dying man
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| Kneels in prayer just in case
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| And while the night sky sadly lit
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| All that you were sleeping through
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| Death took my friend Benjamin
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| But he left his keys with you
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| So I’ll kiss the air instead
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| As not to disturb your sleep
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| And if you never wake my love
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| Maybe you can come with me
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| But it’s a long way out
|
| Twenty steps but its so harming
|
| When they talk out loud
|
| Bend to brace your fingers on me
|
| It’s a long way out
|
| Past the bar and past the awning
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| Past the easy crowd
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| Back into the end of harmony
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| Back into the end of harmony
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| Back into the end of harmony
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| Back into the end |