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It was a slow day and the sun was beating |
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On the soldiers by the side of the road |
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There was a bright light, a shattering of shop windows |
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The bomb in the baby carriage was wired to the radio |
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These are the days of miracle and wonder |
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This is the long distance call |
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The way the camera follows us in slo-mo |
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The way we look to us all |
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The way we look to a distant constellation |
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That's dying in a corner of the sky |
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These are the days of miracle and wonder |
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Don't cry baby, don't cry, don't cry |
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It was a dry wind and it swept across the desert |
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And it curled into the circle of birth |
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And the dead sand falling on the children |
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The mothers and the fathers and the automatic earth |
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These are the days of miracle and wonder |
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This is the long distance call |
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The way the camera follows us in slo-mo |
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The way we look to us all |
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The way we look to a distant constellation |
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That's dying in a corner of the sky |
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These are the days of miracle and wonder |
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Don't cry baby, don't cry, don't cry, don't cry |
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Well, it's a turn-around jump shot, it's everybody jump start |
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Every generation throws a hero up the pop charts |
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Medicine is magical and magical is art |
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Think of the boy in the bubble and the baby with the baboon heart |
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These are the days of lasers in the jungle |
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Lasers in the jungle somewhere |
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Staccato signals of constant information |
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A loose affiliation of millionaires and billionaires and baby |
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These are the days of miracle and wonder |
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This is the long distance call |
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The way the camera follows us in slo-mo |
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The way we look to us all |
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The way we look to a distant constellation |
|
That's dying in a corner of the sky |
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These are the days of miracle and wonder |
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Don't cry baby, don't cry, don't cry |