It's possible that even we were younger, our pockets full and
never knowing hunger, charmed like sleepwalkers on a precipice,
dreaming as one inside our chrysalis. (C): Out the summer
windows, in through winter doors, ever falls the twilight on our
jagged shores where once was land of rare and rolling mountains.
The sea came in through all our golden fountains. The truth is
as sudden as a hailstorm and guides weary sailors to the
maelstrom. (C)

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