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I dreamed I saw St. Augustine alive as you or me |
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Tearing through these quarters in the utmost misery |
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With a blanket underneath his arm and coat of solid gold |
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Searching for the very souls whom already had been sold |
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Arise, arise, he cried so loud with a voice without restraint |
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Come out, you gifted kings and queens and hear my sad complaint |
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No martyr is among you now whom you can call your own |
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But go on you way accordingly you know you're not alone |
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I dreamed I saw St. Augustine alive with fiery breath |
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And I dreamed I was amongst the ones that put him out to death |
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Oh, I awoke in anger so alone and terrified |
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I put my fingers against the glass and bowed my head and I cried |