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King Of Bohemia
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(Richard Thompson) Let me rock you in my arms I'll hold you safe and small A refugee from the Seraphim With your rich girl rags and all Did your dreams die young Were they too hard won Did you reach too high and fall And there is no rest For the ones God blessed And he blessed you best of all Your eyes seem from a different face They've seen that much that soon Your cheeks too cold, too pale to shine Like an old and waning moon And there is no peace No true release No secret place to crawl


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