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    In the valley of the lizards past the broken tv sets
    A flower grows on top of a hill that’s never trampled yet

    But the tread of tearing tires
    And the smoke of leather fires
    And the buzz of information in the air and in the wires

    The sleepy old distraction of the glowing screen alone
    Under eyes of all the cameras you’re inclined to stay at home

    And in a sweating shaking way it covers up my sight
    And surrounds all with confusion in a greasy kind of light

    The reveille blows
    And everybody knows
    But they still tell you
    Get up and start running
    Where the lily-wild grows
    Right under your nose
    But I'll still tell you
    You better start looking.

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    The old face down decision, deciding to get up
    Or laying down defeated, befriend the chopping block

    Now I will say it straightly so the message it is clear
    We are like the silver birds in essence do appear

    We are like the flightless birds in nature do abound
    Who’ve given up their soaring for security of ground

    But the world is very long
    Security is short
    The secret world is falling away, there's nothing left behind

    The golden horn
    The piebald one
    Coming in moon
    Coming in moon bullet and spoon

    The burning grass
    After the glass is covered in cracks
    The dryest grass

    Never anymore

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