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The Prophets Song
Oh Oh people of earth Listen to the warning The seer he said Beware the storm that gathers here Listen to the wise man. I dreamed I saw on a moonlit stair Spreading his hands on the multitude there A man who cried for a love gone stale And ice cold hearts of charity bare. I watched as fear took the old men's gaze Hopes of the yound in troubled graves I see no day, I heard him say So grey is the face of every mortal. Oh Oh people of earth Listen to the warning The prophet he said For soon the cold of night will fall Summoned by your own hand. Oh Oh children of the land Quicken to the new life Take my hand Fly and find the new green bough Return like the white dove. He told of death as a done white haze Taking the lost and the unloved babe Late too late all the wretches run These kinds of beasts now counting their days.