The door it opened slowly,
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My father he came in,
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I was nine years old.
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And he stood so tall above me,
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His blue eyes they were shining
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And his voice was very cold.
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He said, "I've had a vision
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And you know I'm strong and holy,
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I must do what I've been told."
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So he started up the mountain,
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I was running, he was walking,
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And his axe was made of gold.
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Well, the trees they got much smaller,
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The lake a lady's mirror,
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We stopped to drink some wine.
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Then he threw the bottle over.
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Broke a minute later
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And he put his hand on mine.
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Thought I saw an eagle
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But it might have been a vulture,
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I never could decide.
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Then my father built an altar,
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He looked once behind his shoulder,
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He knew I would not hide.
|
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You who build these altars now
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To sacrifice these children,
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You must not do it anymore.
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A scheme is not a vision
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And you never have been tempted
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By a demon or a god.
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You who stand above them now,
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Your hatchets blunt and bloody,
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You were not there before,
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When I lay upon a mountain
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And my father's hand was trembling
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With the beauty of the word.
|
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And if you call me brother now,
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Forgive me if I inquire,
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"Just according to whose plan?"
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When it all comes down to dust
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I will kill you if I must,
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I will help you if I can.
|
When it all comes down to dust
|
I will help you if I must,
|
I will kill you if I can.
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And mercy on our uniform,
|
Man of peace or man of war,
|
The peacock spreads his fan.
|
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-----------------
|
Story Of Isaac
|
Mirah |