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when you fall on the rocks |
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at a bend in the river |
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with the blood from your nose |
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running hard on your fingers |
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and for the rest of your life |
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the electric charge |
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of a change in the weather |
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you were touching my arm |
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you were holding a feather |
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and then I opened my eyes |
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and the world goes racing, suddenly changed |
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as the shock of the axe, it leaves you trembling |
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like a busting shell in the small of your back |
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or a drop that's hard on the cast of your little lie |
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and an animal life will serve you away |
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and you were back on the road |
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through the worst of the winter |
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through the valley of light |
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passing through like an arrow |
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oh, if your vision collapsed |
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and a storm from the river |
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like a pull in the |
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clutching tight in your fingers |
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but on the slope at the edge |
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when you recover your life |
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you can stand on the back of a shuddering beam |
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with a pistol firing shots into the air |
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you could run in the blood of the sun's hard rays |
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you could drive the mountains down into the bay |
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or go back to the east where it's all so civilized |
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where I was born to the life |
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but I am leaving the life |
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I am leaving the life |
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I am leaving the life |
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I am leaving the life |
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I am leaving the life |
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I am leaving |