A breeze is tearing down the leaves of the trees
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(That are) falling asleep in the colors of Fall
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Again, I can hear that strange beat of the Earth
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That melancholy neigh and sorth of the nostrils
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The strokes of hoofs sound again over the land
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I can see them again galloping gracefully
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Their blowing white manes, a tender sharp horn on their brow
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Only a virgin could touch their grace
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And feel the touch of their eyelashes in her palm
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Just today, when I'm scrolling across the forest
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And that ancient touch is warming my palms
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Just today, I'm trying to find the traces of UNICORNS
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As if their traces were still warm
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But those paths have been overgrown with grass
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For a long time...
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Lost Paths Of Unicorns
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| Galadriel |