I will be your history
I'll be the blame
Like the sacred mysteries
They're all the same
Dark
That throw their fragrance round
Roots that clutch through the dust
Below the ground
Silver moon is turning
Now I feel the glow
Lift your bellies high
My solar on the rise See a miracle
But my baby don't believe
If that gift is a given
You better not receive
There's a hymn within
Singing all the end
Lift your bellies high
My solar on the rise
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