| Some of them were dreamers
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| And some of them were fools
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| Who were making plans and thinking of the future
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| With the energy of the innocent
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| They were gathering the tools
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| They would need to make their journey back to nature
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| While the sand slipped through the opening
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| And their hands reached for the golden ring
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| With their hearts they turned to each other’s heart for refuge
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| In the troubled years that came before the deluge
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| Some of them knew pleasure
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| And some of them knew pain
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| And for some of them it was only the moment that mattered
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| And on the brave and crazy wings of youth
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| They went flying around in the rain
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| And their feathers, once so fine, grew torn and tattered
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| And in the end they traded their tired wings
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| For the resignation that living brings
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| And exchanged love’s bright and fragile glow
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| For the glitter and the rouge
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| And in the moment they were swept before the deluge
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| Now let the music keep our spirits high
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| And let the buildings keep our children dry
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| Let creation reveal it’s secrets by and by
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| By and by…
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| When the light that’s lost within us reaches the sky
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| Some of them were angry
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| At the way the earth was abused
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| By the men who learned how to forge her beauty into power
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| And they struggled to protect her from them
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| Only to be confused
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| By the magnitude of her fury in the final hour
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| And when the sand was gone and the time arrived
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| In the naked dawn only a few survived
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| And in attempts to understand a thing so simple and so huge
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| Believed that they were meant to live after the deluge
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| Now let the music keep our spirits high
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| And let the buildings keep our children dry
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| Let creation reveal it’s secrets by and by
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| By and by…
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| When the light that’s lost within us reaches the sky |