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There are ghosts out in the rain tonight |
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High up in those ancient treesand |
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I have given up without a fight |
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Another blind fool on his knees |
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And all the gods that |
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I'd abandoned |
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Begin to speak in simple tongue |
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And suddenly |
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I've come to know |
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There are no roads left to run |
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Now it's the hour of dogs a-barking |
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That's what the old ones used to say |
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It's first light or it's sundown |
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Before the children cease their play |
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When the mountains glow like mission wine |
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And turn grey like a |
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Spanish roan |
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Ten thousand eyes will stop to worship |
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Then turn away and head for home |
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ChorusShe is reaching out her arms tonightand, |
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Lord, my poverty is real |
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I pray roses shall rain down againfrom |
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Guadalupe on her hill |
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And who am |
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I to doubt these mysteries |
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Cured in centuries of blood and candle smoke |
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I am the least of all your children here |
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But I am most in need of hope |
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She appeared to |
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Juan Diego |
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She left her image on his cape |
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Five hundred years of sorrow |
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Cannot destroy their deepest faith |
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So here am |
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I your ragged disbeliever |
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Old doubting |
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Thomas drowns in tears |
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As I watch your church sink through the earth |
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Like a heart worn down through fear |
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Chorus |