I. The Stones Of Years
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Has the dawn ever seen your eyes?
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Have the days made you so unwise?
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Realize, you are.
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Had you talked to the winds of time,
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Then you'd know how the waters rhyme,
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Taste of wine,
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How can you know where you've been?
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In time you'll see the sign
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And realize your sin.
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Will you know how the seed is sown?
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All your time has been overgrown,
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Never known.
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Have you walked on the stones of years?
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When you speak, is it you that hears?
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Are your ears bone?
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You can't hear anything at all.
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II. Mass
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The preacher said a prayer.
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Save ev'ry single hair on his head.
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He's dead.
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The minister of hate had just arrived to late to be spared.
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Who cared?
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The weaver in the web that he made!
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The pilgrim wandered in,
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Commiting ev'ry sin that he could
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So good...
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The cardinal of grief was set in his belief he'd saved
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From the grave
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The weaver in the web that he made!
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The high priest took a blade
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To bless the ones that prayed,
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And all obeyed.
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The messenger of fear is slowly growing, nearer to the time,
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A sign.
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The weaver in the web that he made!
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A bishops rings a bell,
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A cloak of darkness fell across the ground
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Without a sound!
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The silent choir sing and in their silence,
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Bring jaded sound, harmonic ground.
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The weaver in the web that he made!
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III. The Battlefield
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Clear the battlefield and let me see
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All the profit from our victory.
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You talk of freedom, starving children fall.
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Are you deaf when you hear the season's call?
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Were you there to watch the earth be scorched?
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Did you stand beside the spectral torch?
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Know the leaves of sorrow turned their face,
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Scattered on the ashes of disgrace.
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Ev'ry blade is sharp; the arrows fly
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Where the victims of your armies lie.
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Were the blades of grass, and arrows rain,
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Then there'd be no sorrow,
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Be no pain.
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Tarkus
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Emerson, Lake & Palmer |