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- Stamping on the ramping with a cloven hoof
- I’ve seen your trick of blood, your trap of fire, your ancient wound, your scarlet moon
- The sky of daytime dies away, and all the earthly things they stop to play
- And she floats upon the smoke, she moves among the shadows
- Sunday morning, skeleton tree, oh nothing is for free
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When I was a boy, the moon was a pearl the sun a yellow gold
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