(So I was in a Printing-house in Hell, and
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saw the method in which knowledge is
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transmitted from generation to generation)
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As it had been told...
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And all of the words
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Were being swept away
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By the wind
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Of stupidity,
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It seems to me...
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During your life's darkest way
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You're going to be bewitched by pain
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So strong so you'll have to eat your fear
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Until you die and disappear.
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By the way,
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During your life's deepest road
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You will have seen and heard a lot -
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You're going to be bewitched by this.
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You will have given, you'll have missed
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All of the sweetest dreams of yours.
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I wonder so what kind of whores
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Do you belong to? I'll try to guess...
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I've seen there's only chaos and mess...
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That's why there's only sleepy fire
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Of hunger, curses and desire
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And nothing's done... Nobody's torn. -
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Perhaps thou art bewitched whore...
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Thou art bedevilled one!
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The veil of evening does fall down...
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With rustle it's approaching now
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The hollow - hearted voice of time
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Does make me sing to you a lullaby
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There is no need to speak of the brothel in town...
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One whore who used to be an archbishop mistress,
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Got a daughter-in-sin, little one was called Selinda:
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With the help of her priest she had left little one
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Under the shelter of orphanage of St. John
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She had died and begun looking for little one.
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But she looked ghost alike... and it was real ghost!
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SELINDA! SELINDA!
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COME TO ME MY SWEET SELINDA!
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COME TO MUMMY LITTLE GIRL!
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Run away!
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Light escapeth from the grave! -
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Make me breathe again, my sentinel
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Ghostly aim -
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I should find my little one...
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Essay to hear me, Selinda...
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And so, let it be done!
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Ye never know what the terrible thoughts occur...
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I have not ever left thee, pretty daughter of mine
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Oh, Selinda, hurry up my little one!
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Come to mummy,
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Essay to reach my hand
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Oh... try to reach my hand, Selinda!
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I am dying for thine smile
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Come to me my sweet Selinda!
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Come to mummy little girl!
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SELINDA! SELINDA!
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Thou art my flesh, my wish - thy sigh am I.
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Awful nonsense stealeth my life
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Thou art my dream, my essence - whore am I.
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Our time doth slowly pass us by.
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Every step doth push me down... Oh... well,
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Vanish fast: thou art pretty well
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Coming closer to the hell,
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Coming faster to the hell!
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ONLY WRATH SHALT DISLODGE
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UGLY BEAST FROM HIS LAIR
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THOU MAY LOSE THY POOR HEAD,
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THY DISGUSTING SOUL
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BUT THY FEARS NEVER LEAVE THEE...
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AND THEY WILT BE NEXT TO THEE.
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THEY WILT BE BREATHING, INDEED
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TILL THY ESSENCE BE FREED.
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Till you voyeur serrated crown of graves...
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May my essence appear
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Through pellucid array
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Of the ruptured daylight!
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With hiss dusk preys in glades...
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Smothered by run of time -
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Nascent twilight empowered
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Deepest night to ascend.
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May the planets confer!
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May my spirit arise
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From the dank filthy grave!
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May the night set aflame
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Cold stars upon the mire
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Of the cemetery!
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Come to me my Selinda!
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Come to mummy, Selinda...
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Oh no! -
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There is only your little head
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In my trembling hands!
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Come along with thy mummy in hell! -
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Without thee I shalt drown in a bottomless well of...
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...PAIN!
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I cannot be dead at all...
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I hae heard thy cry, my little girl!
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Oh no!
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This one is not of mine...
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This is someone else...
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My sweet daughter, besides thee
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Selinda!
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Where can I find thee, little one?
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I should find thy place!
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And so, let it be done!
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Oh...
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I should find thy place my dearest! -
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I had found a lot but thee
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Try to reach thy pale-blue fingers... my Selinda!
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Come to mummy little girl!
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Poor mortal whore...
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Doth belong to eternity...
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Having lost all the mind of her own
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By the way she's bewitched
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With some of Luciferian spells
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But doth not bewitched one
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Have a good time in hell,
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Have a nice time in hell?
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It shalt arise from the tomb of itself...
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Shalt be haunting for the aim
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That is inaccessible
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Selinda, here I am! Try to bereave
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Thy mother of her pain and her bequest, Selinda...
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I do belong now to eternity...
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As it should be with whore bewitched by thee,
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My daughter...
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Selinda, dear, abandon gloomy sleep! -
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We'll fly |