the dancer and the dancing days have taken leave n fell,
so turn down this bed of stone ,
quench me with the deadly nighhshade from the rose that you belong ,
the long december rain is falling now ,
running down on streets to nowhere,
music is my life your my sweetest nigthtingale,
bt i cant hear it here no more
and i goo .
i goo
hush now ,dont shake or brake ,
words have fallen silent like soldier to the grave
no matter what they do or say
lay me on the sleepy meadow by the tracks upon your face .
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