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Blood on the stoneBlood from the stone the young boy kissed itPot of goldQuest for the coast to snag the linchpinAny day any day we'll meet in dark landsHeathens say heathens say we'll never meet youEchoes that mellow the clutches of fallen trees They don't believe!Churches are buried so deep that grounds releaseBody's trapeze!Hands in the air hands in the air these ghostly starlingsAnywhere any day we ever dreamed upWhat it is anything to never speak of?Walking lines treading wilds of natures districtsEchoes that mellow the clutches of fallen trees They don't believe!Churches are buried so deep that the grounds releaseBody's trapeze! From Letras Mania