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The Mountain tall, It stands with pride. It soars with trees upon its side, A pointing shard, Her Standing guard. Waiting there below his Bride.
Let me tell you a story, Fantastic as can be, It's about a perfect man, He who died on a tree. It was not a hanging, that's far from true, It's called a crucifixion, and He died for me and you.
Here, the water Is no longer. Here, there are shards of glass. Here is the forbidden And untamed land Everyone seeks and adores. Here, the land is guarded by glass shards...
No filter? Why do I need a filter? I’m pretty in sweats and a tee With no make up on And unkempt hair
My heart pounds My palms sweating
Five and six, seven, eight My body’s bruised; it’s getting late ‘Spin’ As the pole falls my smile slips But on I go, I cannot quit Step, together, step once more
I have a guard Obedient and spry. Whether I want him or not, Is stuck at my side. Alert and on point, Eyes peeled to the brow. The wind is against me, And he defends anyhow.
Be my sleeping guard The soldier of my dreams Hold me in your arms Wake me when I scream. Be my protector of uncontrolled unconscious thoughts Lead me through these things I've fought