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Strange, is it not?
that of the myriads who |
Now isn't
it strange that of everyone who |
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Before us pass'd the
door of Darkness through, |
Before us
has passed the darkest door through |
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Not one returns to tell
us of the Road, |
No one
returns to tell of the road |
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Which to discover we
must travel too.
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That for us
to know we must travel too
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There's something going on here |
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I don't know what it means |
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There must be something larger |
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Larger
than
life outside of dreams
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I sent my Soul through
the Invisible, |
I shot out
my soul through the singular eye |
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Some letter of that
After-life to spell: |
Still
thirsting to quench from this paradise well |
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And by and by my Soul
return'd to me, |
And then by
and by my soul came to tell |
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And answer'd "I Myself
am Heav'n and Hell:"
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"There can be
no Heaven in self-created Hell"
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There's something going on here |
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I don't know what it means |
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There must be something larger |
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Larger
than
life outside of dreams
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Heav'n but the Vision
of fulfill'd Desire, |
If Heaven's
but the vision of a found desire |
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And Hell the Shadow
from a Soul on fire, |
Then Hell's
a helpless shadow of a soul on fire |
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Cast on the Darkness
into which Ourselves, |
Downcast
upon the darkness into which it fell |
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So late emerged from,
shall so soon expire.
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Yet burning
to emerge in time if only to expire
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There's something going on here |
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I don't know what it means |
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There must be something larger |
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Larger
than
life outside of dreams
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Lyrics © 1980 Damon Leigh (ASCAP)
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(Inspired by Edward M.
FitzGerald's translation of “The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam”) |
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Music © 1980 Britt Bacon
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• ALL RIGHTS RESERVED •
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Damon Leigh
"Cross Country" |
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CD -
Only $9.95 -
Free S&H |
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