I saw you from a foreign window
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Bearing down the sufferin' road
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You were carryin' your burden
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To the palace of the Lord
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To the palace of the Lord
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I spied you from a foreign window
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When the lilacs were in bloom
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And the sun shone through your window pane
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To the place you kept your books
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You were reading on your sofa
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You were singin' every prayer
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That the masters had instilled in you
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Since Lord Byron loved despair
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In the palace of the Lord
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In the palace of the Lord
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And if you get it right this time
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You don’t have to come back again
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And if you get it right this time
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There’s no need to explain
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I saw you from a foreign
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Bearing down the sufferin' road
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You were carryin' your burden
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You were singing about Rimbaud
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I was going down to Geneva
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When the kingdom had been found
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I was giving you protection
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From the loneliness of the crowd
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In the palace of the Lord
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In the palace of the Lord
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They were giving you religion
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Breaking bread and drinking wine
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And you laid out on the green hills
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Just like when you were a child
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I saw you from a foreign window
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You were trying to find your way back home
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You were carrying your defects
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Sleeping on a pallet on the floor
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In the palace of the Lord
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In the palace of the Lord
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In the palace of the Lord |