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Danse Macabre
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Wendy Rule
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Be it the death of a child Be it the love that floats on a sorrow Be it the torture of splendor That leads your heart away Into the morrow Be it the joy that cuts deep Be it the wail of terror Be it the softness, the softness of fear That settles in your heart Whenever love is near And I have heard it before And I have felt it before Each time the thousands time thousands of souls Within each thousand years Has put its cell in me And all I can hear The cry And all I can feel The pain And all I can see The lives That went ahead of me That felt intensity And I am crying with you And I am moaning desire And you have laid down your gift to my soul I have your memory in every cell of me And all I can hear The cry And all I can feel The pain And all I can see The lives That went ahead of me That felt intensity
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