(Belew/King Crimson)
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Here is the angel of the world's desire
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Placed on trial
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To hide in shrouded alley sihouettes
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With cigarette coiled
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To stike at passing voices
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Dark and suspect
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Here is the howling ire
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Here is the sacred face of rendevous
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In subway sour
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Whose grand delusions prey like intellect
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In lunatic minds
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Intent and focused on
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The long thin matches
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To light the howling fire...
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No, no, not me,
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Burn, I don't wanna burn.....
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The Howler
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King Crimson |