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Clark |
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The warm wind will not blow tonight |
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For the the fog enshrouds |
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The landing light |
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As she said she might have heard |
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A bell tolling |
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Though a gold ship |
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Aails her clouds and dreams |
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Through the crashing seas |
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She finds it seems |
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That the shore she's looking for |
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Is hardly showing |
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Oh what is this song she's singing |
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Oh could it be for someone, |
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Bringing her, her everything |
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Her paralytic agencies |
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Twist their tongues into philosophies |
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As petite Colombe asks only |
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What she's been stealing |
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The tapestries that drape her walls |
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And the heroes she has witnessed fall |
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While the hallway leaves them |
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All blank to the ceiling |
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Oh again this song she's singing |
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Oh could it be for someone, |
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Bringing her, her every dream |
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Beneath the deep and broken wall |
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The reflecting glass of time it falls |
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Through the crack she said |
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She heard the ocean calling |
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The foghorn cries profanity |
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At the master of insanity |
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As she watches ruins, neading me and sobbing |
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Oh again this song she's singing |
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Oh could it be for someone, |
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Bringing her, her everything. |