[Narrator:]
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This is the beginning and the end. The rise and the fall.
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Our gait will begin its saunter at the source, when the infant learns to crawl.
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Place your hand on mine.
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Untie your mind.
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Let your bloated brain balloon and float away.
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Wet the end of the thread.
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Thimble upon your index.
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Set the needle on its path,
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Bobbing up and down and past.
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Tears and seams all turn to one
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With every stitch and each spool spun.
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Feed the line through its eye.
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Draw it from the other side.
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Pull the strand to satisfy.
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The need to compose.
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The genetic map.
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The scientific gap.
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The detailed blueprints.
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Swept away under carpets.
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All we did was thread the eye
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Of the silver splinter.
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We simply planted the seed
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And nursed it through the winter.
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The rest is up to you and what you'll do.
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To learn and love and laugh
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Until the cycle circles back
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I'll just separate, weigh anchor, disengage
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Divide and disappear. And see you in the mirror.
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I'm a slave to the night.
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[Narrator:]
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O the Scientist was the author and the architect.
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The angels were His ink slingers, His actors and actresses.
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His two purest talents were Ahrima and Nidria, two destined hearts,
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Bound by the same idea; the unrelenting constancy of love and hope
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Can rescue and restore you from any scope.
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In her, Ahrima confided his curbing frustration.
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His gifts had been exhausted.
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Oh, how they'd misused them.
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She averted his passion and eased his blood.
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And so he confessed it to her, he had fallen in love.
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A slave to your eyes.
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-----------------
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Genesis
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Forgive Durden |