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When all the worlds are lost in snow |
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I have to move this meaning through; |
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Disperse the force so far engendered |
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All near the steam and summer view |
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And then... remain. |
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Where steeples crash in fire and thunder, |
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Where sheets of steel obscure the land, |
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Where word and sense are torn asunder: |
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Here was the place |
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I chose to stand. |
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Just when |
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I think I'm going under, |
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I... remain. |
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Well all the waves of spin are foaming, |
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And fake muezzin steam and brew, |
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Formed in the fire of all their longings(? ) |
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This is the way |
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I took it through, |
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Just when |
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I think I'm going under. |
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This is the way |
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I thought it through; |
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This is the way |
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I took it under... |