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He made the world a grassy road before our bare, wandering feet, |
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(He made the world a grassy road before our bare, wandering feet) |
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and crushed the stones into the softest sand between our toes, |
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(and crushed the stones into the softest sand) |
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But we're wondering where to sleep, |
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all the clever words on pages turn to fragments; |
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Circles, points and lines, and cover them like carpets, with graceful, |
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meaningless ornamental designs, |
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come quick, |
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you light that knows no evening |
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Come, alone to the alone! |
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I have a thousand half-loves well worth leaving for you to take your madness home, |
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and you dance inside my chest where no on sees you, |
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but sometimes I see you. |
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(And with you light that knows no evening |
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Come, alone to the alone! |
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I've a thousand half-loves well worth leaving for you to take your madness home, |
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and you dance inside my chest, et cetera, |
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et cetera, |
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et cetera!) |
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Oh rejoice, the cleansing of my lips! |
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Rejoice, salvation of my soul! |
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I still have a thousand half-loves |
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Oh my God, I want to shoot myself just thinking about it! |
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And you think I don't mean what I say? |
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Well I mean every word I say. |
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I threw a stone down at the reflection of my image in the water, |
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(I threw a stone down at the reflection of my image in the water) |
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and it altogether disappeared. |
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I burst as it shattered through me like a bullet through a bottle, |
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and I'm expected to believe that any of this is real? |