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Handel: Sonata #3 Crying, wailing, profound din Somewhere in a neverland Counterpane and counterpoint Sound of laughter on death row This is the hour, no appeal Cold steel guillotines appear Polished, readied to come down That is only half the sound Rising, soaring reaching heights Passion never dared attain Silver, like the silver thread Holding soul to body, pain Stretched unto the breaking point In the Babel of the base Then, Crescendo rise and die rise and die and die again Sigh and moan into the night Helpless to dismiss the rift Floating in the inner ear gleaming from the retina listing, lilting little ship: harbour us and take us home-- Golden alto saxophone |
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