If you'd gonna disappear, in a random evening gloom, my sweet one, my bitter one, I'd sail crazy on the sea-foam with a sack that's full of clay and a back-full of twig-sprigs to reshape you from beginning with the power of my hand... long and monotonous labor (just to bring you back to life, lovely feme adored woman...) me, a sick Pygmalion... c'mon, wander, Galatea. long and monotonous labor, x2 (just to bring you back to life, lovely feme adored woman...) If you'd gonna disappear, be your death made of life only, my sweet one, my bitter one, I'd go to the ice's countries to rebuild you out of icicles, dressing you into a hoar-frost, after that be free to leave wherever your dreams will be. If you'd gonna truly fall, at the moment of high reveal, I would quietly come to you, recompose you out of angels. I would quietly come to you, x2 recompose you out of angels After all this, I will leave... humiliated and bamboozled to the side
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