Tunes of mendacity whispers
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throughout the gloom, like echoes
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of mystery or a lullaby of doom
|
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An illusion of pleasure
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an illusion of pain
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Yield to the beauty and
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soon you will waltz with the dead
|
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Come yes you and listen to
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my melody. Say can you do
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another such sweet harmony
|
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Deep in the mist you can hear him
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softly playing his strings in order
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to snatch your soul far away
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Deep in the mist you reveal him
|
a naked shape of peace as he plays
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you a song to lure you to stay
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Such nimble fingers that play
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upon the fiddle. In shadows they
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linger like the darkest of riddles
|
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Deep in the mist you can hear him,
|
hearken not to the sound
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from upon his luring strings.
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Deep in the mist you reveal him,
|
the fiddler of the lost and drowned
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that slip you a song to sing.
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-----------------
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Waltz With The Dead
|
Falconer |