Early morning, dreary horizon
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Aching hands are pulling a millstone
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Wailing from the cart
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Moaning from a shattered heart
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He's burned down many a bridge
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And he's scared of walking in the dark
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It hurts when the rain falls on his skin
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Oh he is worn out from marching
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And he's forgotten for what he's searching
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Yet he keeps up the stride
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God knows that he won't arrive
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-----------------
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Ghost
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| Blue Foundation |
