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Kissing James Dean on a Ferris wheel |
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No I don't feel anything |
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Corn yellow, pale blue |
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Kissing the face of a ghost with a name |
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As the war rages on down below |
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Between the ghosts with no faces, |
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And the ghosts with no names |
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I know they're there, I know |
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The ghosts with no faces, the ghosts with no names |
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And the voices started to sing: |
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Silent stone faces |
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Watch and wait |
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As the desert blooms and dies and blooms and dies |
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Bones dry and crumble under neon |
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And water washes away down through chrome drains |
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Yes they Sing. |
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Waiting all this time to be heard |
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Souls hanging in the cold, |
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Waiting for us |
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Waiting for me |
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Who was all this time waiting for you, all this time. |
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Like jade, |
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Like long lost buried gold |
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Old as the sun and the moon |
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Waiting to bring us all back together again |
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All this time waiting for us, waiting for me |
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Who was all this time waiting for you |
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All this time, all this time. |
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And like drops of rain we will be together again. |
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As a white woman photographed a brown woman |
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Passed out drunk on a dusty road, wrapped in a stained serape |
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An ancient queen with cat's eyes stood silent watch over the |
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Great flowing vein of the Nile |
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Angry men threw bloody knives into the holy green river |
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As stony tears cracked and turned to sand |
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Onyx eyes stared out over a black veil |
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Fearless and face to face with the past |
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Tattooed crosses along a strong jaw line |
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And I heard her say 'I am. |
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And I always have been'. |
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But I will hear them sing: |
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Silent stone faces |
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Watch and wait |
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As the desert blooms and dies and blooms and dies |
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Bones dry and crumble under neon |
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And water washes away down through chrome drains. |