Make no mistakes, my voice is clear
And thought it may a subtle threat: Mayflower, swing low, because your love has such few regrets
We cannot distinguish all of the world.

So celebrate and sing along.
It is a gift.
It's where I belong.
Straight down and to the east,
I place my hands out in from me.
We are all the crowd.

To the sweet by and by I come.
To the crowd be blessed,
I swear I won't let you choke.
You give nothing but rest and a loving hand.
I belong to the war.
I belong to your side.
I can't hold my breath but I swear I think this is the start.

That's the nature of the beast.
If we have nothing left but death, it's a clear but subtle threat.
'The south is where I lay my sword and the stage is where my heart will rest'

We are the crowd.

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