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    Blue dawn, cold day feels like Sunday
    But there's no rest for some
    No time, winter's round the corner
    Lift that weary head
    And those limbs that feel like lead

    Don't say the season's at hand
    When the hunter is the hunted
    And the mystic widows weep
    Today I saw a crystal vision
    Mirrored in a stream where

    Stealthy lovers creep
    I have no reservations now

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    Into her open arms
    I would gladly cast myself
    Into that wishing well on a hill
    By her summer house

    She said people are confusing
    When they get what they want
    They just throw it in the corner
    It's true they can do
    Such ugly things in the name of honour
    I know that a fragile trust
    Can be torn to pieces
    By a world ever changing

    But you know what they say
    No pain, no gain

    Into her open arms
    I would gladly cast myself
    Into that wishing well on a hill
    By her summer house
    Summer house
    Into that wishing well on a hill
    By her summer house
    Summer house
    Into that wishing well on a hill
    By her summer house
    Summer house
    Summer house

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