Passion, sweat, and blood
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Wash up on this beach of time
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From the rites of the temples and the kings to the vile brothels emerge the clockwork face
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Grain by grain of sand pass through the hourglass, she shall pass
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She measures, pacing, pleasure marks the fleeting seconds
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Toe the line
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Appetite drives the beast
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She is the clockwork's face
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Revolve round the thistles and the thorns of this barren earth
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Coax the rising tide
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Ripples pulse into waves of fury at the earth
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And the beast reigns
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Until the King returns
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The Watchmaker
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Not One Is Upright |