When all should be done and gone, / he comes round again to see,
|
he can't keep himself away.
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He touches her hand and it starts again.
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His work is an ugly mess.
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He prods and it cries in pain.
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He kicks and it starts to scream.
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He hurries away when she cannot see.
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When all should be done and gone,
|
he comes round again to see,
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he can't keep himself away.
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he touches her hand and it / starts again.
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Moving so slowly, / droplets of kindness / that poison and choke
|
when this thing should have died long ago.
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The entrails are soft and warm, / this time it must be the end.
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One touch and it lives again.
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He keeps it alive to be part of its pain / (and that's mercy.
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And that's compassion. / And that's being good friends in a crisis.
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What's one corpse between friends?)
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Oh / oh-oh-oh...
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Leave it, boy. / Just leave it alone.
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Stop scratching, or it'll never heal. / Just let it lie in peace.
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Get out of the way, /get out of the way, / the brakes cannot last for long.
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He knows he must let it go, / he knows but he keeps a hold.
|
He touches her hand and it / starts again.
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Ah! / Ah! / Ah!
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Moving so slowly, / he drops it so gently, / urging its life
|
to a peak to torment it again!
|
|
-----------------
|
The Never-Ending Story
|
Pulp |