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In his room - an alien aura |
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Glass-pipes ,mortars,golden vessels |
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He knows all,but he must hurry |
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Working on what seems so precious |
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He's gonna turn this steel into gold |
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Applying magic and using his Stone |
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The artefact he stole from the gods |
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He'll pay the price - and he says:why not? |
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Like any searcher, he'd never give up |
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He keeps on trying to see what is what |
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He sold his soul a long time ago |
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He'll pay it back when death takes its toll |
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In his room - an alien aura |
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Glass-pipes, mortars, golden vessels |
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He knows all, but he must hurry |
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Working on what seems so precious |
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In the world he cannot enter |
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Something strange is soon to happen |
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And he had better find the centre |
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Of this compicated pattern |
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Although so close, he ain't reached his goal |
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Can't stop the race against the clock |
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He's gonna turn this steel into gold |
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He's got the key but it don't fit the lock |
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His bleeding hands no longer feel pain |
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Why must he do it again and again? |
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Another move and another try |
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The later answer - the sooner he'll die |
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He's aware of the things to come |
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He should end what he has begun |
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Wishes he could have more time |
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In the cards - a cruel future |
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There is a crack across the mirror |
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That's a very scary picture |
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And it's slowly getting nearer |
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In the world he cannot enter |
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Something strange is soon to happen |
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Will he ever find the centre |
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Of this complicated pattern? |