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The twisted wings and clouds unfold |
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And the great page of |
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He who feel |
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Makes arkened shadows / over pointed spires |
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Little children point and sign |
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And little children run and dance |
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Over the setting sun |
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Oh over the setting sun |
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Lucifer over |
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London And under that the silent stars |
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And under that the weeping sky |
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And under her the laughung world |
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Balance sits / in western parts / and piles spare |
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Spares In his / gabled room |
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Lucifer over |
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London Great |
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Anarch and |
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Monarch of not |
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The flight of |
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Lucifer over |
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London And my little grandson |
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Wrinkled son forehead |
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All tiny blue pain |
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The mother |
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Blood emerges |
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Then the mother grief |
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And the blue gates of |
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Death Open armwide |
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Open teethwide |
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Lucifer over |
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London All dead like the leaves |
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Old time shiver |
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Old dead calendar / past / blurred / sunsets / cinders flying |
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In his heart / his heart / his fingers |
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Punch holes in the sky |
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All the little |
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Christs I count |
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Lucifer over |
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London All the little |
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Christs I call |
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Laughing through the green green fields |
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Some of these angels have the face of |
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God Some of them the face of dogs |
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By the tower of |
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Moab See the sky's green angel form |
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Lucifer lickers all around me |
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His hooded eyes alight |
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Look into him just a little longer |
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See the true face of the... moon |
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So he weels there / through the heavens |
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His eyes as dotted brightlights |
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Licked with lust |
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A golden seabird |
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Half dead with spray |
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His banners / are / broken / flags in the wind |
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Devouring life / he / breaks at walls |
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Lucifer over |
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London The glint of dead fruits glint |
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And then the moon... |
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And then the moon... |
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And then the moon... |