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The Meetings of the Waters
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(Ooh) (Ooh) Ferns, they will bend And the moon, it will send Slide down your collar Your bones, they will mend I know they will All quarried out But not (?) of your sting I know your storm light will rise Up again Across the wave The meetings of the waters (?) Just below the ribs To the higher reach From the roots of love Meetings of the waters Your skin Taste of gorse flowers As we lie in the dark Mouth is of sapphires When you speak

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