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The poet's voice lingers on

 His words hang in the air

The ground you walk upon

Might as well not be there

 Might as well not be there

I'll take you through my dreams

 Out into the darkest morning

Past the blood filled streams

Into the garden of jane Delawney

 Into the garden now

Though the rose is fair

Don't pluck it as you pass

For a fire will consume your hair

 And your eyes will turn to glass

 Your eyes will turn to glass

In the willow's shade

 Don't lie to hear it weep

 For its tears of gold and jade

 Will drown you as you sleep

 Will drown you now

Jane Delawney had her dreams

 That she never did discover

 For the flow that feeds the stream

Is the life blood of her lover

 Is the life blood of her lover

 And the purifying beam

 Of the sun will shine here never

 While the spirit of her dream

 In the garden lives forever

 Lives forever now

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