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Again I find myself in this narrow chamber |
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And my kettle simmers with the same old brew |
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Now turning sour |
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There must be more to this than chemistry |
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As my soul burns with fever |
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Instinctively I do repeat the simple formula |
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"Solve et coagula" |
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He stands to face his fate alone |
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Who will not be content with stone |
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Some distant glimmers used to lessen my despair |
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Since then this darkened cell has lost its charm |
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Now I seek a lightning's glare |
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"Grips thee, thou Superman! Where is the soul elated? |
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Where is the breast that in its self a world created"-M |
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"Why grinnest thou at me, thou hollow skull? |
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Save that thy brain, confused like mine, once sought bright day |
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And in the sombre twilight dull, |
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With lust for truth, went wretchedly astray?"-F |