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Just an ordinary day, I knew that autumn was on its way, |
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I could see by the gilt of the clouds, the burnish on the bay, |
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A ring of effusia settled on the city like a vision of the future |
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Before the scales fell away, |
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A vision of the future looking more than just okay, |
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A good feeling |
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Yes, just a good feeling |
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And it only happens now and then - |
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Out of the mouth of a black dog, |
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Out of the terrors of 3 am, |
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Out of the dark and whispering fen, |
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I was blind then I could see, now I'm blind again. |
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So I hollered up to Jill, |
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"Come down from the mountain, your ears are 'a burning, |
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My speech is a fountain, it's been another long year |
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But you know I'm not counting, |
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I dreamed you like you dreamed me, |
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O the bomb dreamed the fuse and the drowner dreamed the sea", |
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What a strange feeling... |
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Yes, it?s a strange feeling |
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And it only happens now and then - |
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Out of the mouth of a black dog, |
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Out of the terrors of 3 am, |
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Out of the dark and whispering fen, |
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I was blind then I could see, now I'm blind again. |
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Most of the Aegean Sea rushes into my bedroom and glitters for me, |
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The hills of Gallipoli all throw up their bones for my industry, |
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So I build from the charnel the ale house, |
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I build from the tomb a palace of dreams, |
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That old barren rockface got silver seams for a miner of middling means, |
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Singing poems of dissolution and schemes - |
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My penny whistles, lo! |
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Now I summon up Jack, sat up on the hill, |
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The wrong kind of music, the wrong kind of pill, |
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Impotent as a potato but still pleading "Give it up Mary, |
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But not by degrees..." |
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A portrait of Jack, a study in sin, well I knew of myself before I knew of him, |
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Now even I couldn't tell ya just who it is asking |
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"Give it up Mary, but not by degrees, |
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Give it up Mary, your virtue, please..." |
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Into the mouth of a black dog - I go |
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Into the terrors of 3 am - I go |
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Into the dark and whispering fen - I go |
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I was blind then blind again |
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Into the mouth of a black dog - I go |
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Into the terrors of 3 am - I go |
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Into the dark and whispering fen - I go |
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O what beast has my name on its snaggle tooth, |
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And eternal slobber for my finishing youth? |
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My penny whistles low. |