Gently they stir, gently rise
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The dead are newborn awakening
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With ravaged limbs and wet souls
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Gently they sigh in rapt funeral amazement
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Who called these dead to dance?
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Was it the young woman learning to play the ghost song on her baby grand?
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Was it the wilderness children?
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Was it the ghost god himself, stuttering, cheering, chatting blindly?
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I called you up to anoint the earth
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I called you to announce sadness falling like burned skin
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I called you to wish you well
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To glory in self like a new monster
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And now I call you to pray
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Newborn Awakening
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The Doors |