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she was blind, the lark was blind
An old king came and took her to his palace 
Where the walls were burnished bronze and golden braid 
And he fed her
Riding high on burnished wings
And with a brazen eye
The buzzard waits to take its pick
Waiting on that helpless cry
In the time it takes
to the handrail
It's long, of burnished chrome
Saying in that stupid voice of his
are scenes of awful suffering
We're avoiding looking at each other

Then he's pointing to the handrail
It's long of burnished chrome
And saying in that
and damps;
I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps,
His day is marching on.

I have read His fiery gospel writ in rows of burnished
burnished with gold there
And standing in the rhythm
This circle of trees, and the full wish we told there
Truthful as a prism

I looked at the mystery
under the skin
The friction burns as they turn working deeper in
But day by day sharp edges fade, smooth, burnished and fine

Trials of the world are
Hands get pound, when it comes down to slick rhymes
No respect in the deuce cool I'm vickin mines
Burnished in New York kids that rolled diesel
Kids swoll
On the burnished thrones they sit 
Might in their blazing eyes 
Vault of heaven at their feet 
Undying flames inside 

Never shall decay or death 
Touch
And with our compass lost, we talked long into the darkest hours
Until we saw the burnished sky, and our eyes stung as our words blurred and became thoughts
Guinevere is sleeping across the ocean wide and I'm headed there tomorrow upon the morning tide in my boots of burnished leather cracking
as hot as burnished coal a harbinger of hair and bone wailing in the wild alone want to see what's up above? then pledge your heart to the hanging judge
she was blind,
The lark was blind.

the king of the rivers took her to his palace,
Where the walls were burnished bronze and golden braid,
And he
glory beckons
Tough as burnished leather
And hard as Krupp's steel

The standard raised we wait
Our comfort, in readiness
The stoicism of the elite
off an airplane far above her?
In the glint of the foot-burnished manhole cover?
In a light, a sign of one kind or another?
In the gleaming eye
she was blind,
The lark was blind.

the king of the rivers took her to his palace,
Where the walls were burnished bronze and golden braid,
And he
of the year
On the last good day of the year

All the leaves are turning
Autumn's fingers burnished
Furnished here in hope and in faith in the meantime
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
His day is marching on

I have read a fiery gospel writ in burnished rows of steel
"As ye deal with my contemners, so with
of the year
On the last good day of the year

All the leaves are turning
Autumn's fingers burnished
Furnished here in hope and in faith in the meantime
of burnished gold
But I'm still blue
-------
REPEAT CHORUS:
Winter comes and tightens her grip
One more year lies waiting to slip away
Like a ship on a fog bound
We want you on beds of burnished silver
Beneath the buckling of the rafters
And the twilight stung with cinder

We want you blond above
And the chants of the damned shall be sharpened and be turned into spears Blades of burnished curse gleam in the dark Wounds shall be made and be kept open for
to the sun
Our shields are all burnished and bright
The camp fires ebb, the gauntlet is down
Our tears, no sorrow for the vanguard of truth
Ready to die like

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