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"Is it lasting?", and in asking, the sphere becomes a line |
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A dotted line, and to follow it, you must make a jump each time |
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A dotted page, a dotted hillside, a blast of dots |
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A blind reader, a flock of sheep, or a blast of trumpet shots |
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Here |
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All we have here is sky |
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All the sky is, is blue |
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All that blue is, is one more colour now |
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To measure the tower's invisible sway inside the moving skies |
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The cough of a swallow that softly lies there as loudly as it died |
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The same as the vendor who likes to sing as loudly as he can |
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All he says is, "It suits me fine, that's the way I am" |
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Here |
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All we have here is sky |
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All the sky is, is blue |
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All that blue is, is one more colour now |
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Speak a little softer, work a little harder, shoot less with more care |
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Sing a little sweeter, and love a little longer, and soon you will be there |
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Here |
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All we have here is sky |
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All the sky is, sky blue |
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All that blue is, is one more colour |
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One more colour |
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One more colour now |
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And these are some reasons, just like the seasons, they turn and then they fly |
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The honkless geese 'neath the goatless ledge in the speckless sky |
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The speckless sky |
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The speckless sky |
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I hear you |
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I hear you |
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I hear you |