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Opening poem by Sylvia Plath : |
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But toward the region where |
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Our thick atmosphere diminishes |
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And God knows what is there |
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A point of exclamation marks that sky |
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In ringing orange |
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Like a stellar carrot |
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Its round period displaced in greens |
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Suspends beside it a first point |
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The starting point of evil |
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Against the new moon's curve |
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Martin Barnard : |
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So that I see |
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And know I gave reason |
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The time to believe |
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It's all in my head |
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The sun that I see |
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Is just an illusion |
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And I live close to the edge |
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This time taking time |
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This sun, sun is high |
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Sang a tune, sang a tune, sang a tune |
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Everybody talks to you |
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Everybody talks to you |
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Turning like it ought to |
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Turning like a wise will |
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Saying like it hasn't |
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Soul see, soul set |
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Soul see, soul set |
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Calling her name |
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Called in nirvana |
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Time and again |
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Alone that I work |
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Take this and more |
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And time in together |
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And why are you close to the edge |
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They say just to add |
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The wilder world is a trap |
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I see just to add you to that |
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For he was the sun |
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The comet rushing along |
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And she, new to that |
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Turned her back |
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Does everybody talk to you |
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Everybody talks to you |
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Turning like it ought to |
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Taking it away |
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( Sample ) |
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Soul see, soul set |
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Soul see, soul set |
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Soul see, soul set |
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Soul see, soul set |
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( Sample ) |