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In the centre of the storm |
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something magic being born |
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When the world is torn apart |
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by the beating of a heart |
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Like a dam about to burst |
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Like a drunkard's crazy thirst |
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In the centre of the storm |
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something magic being born |
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It's the dark hours of the soul |
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when the nightmares take their toll |
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when the shadows come to mock |
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against the ticking of the clock |
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When the demons of the night |
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come like vultures for their bite |
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In the dark hours of the soul |
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when the nightmares take their toll |
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It's the dawning of the day |
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night-time's panic swept away |
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When the clouds which seemed so dark |
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are exchanged for morning's lark |
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When the stars which burnt so bright |
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are exchanged for morning light |
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In the dawning of the day |
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Nightime's panic swept away |