(Judy) The birds they sang at break of day Start again, I heard them say Nor dwell on what has passed away Or what is yet to be. The wars they will be fought again The holy dove be caught again Bought and sold and bought again Until we set them free. Ring the bells that still can ring Forget your perfect offering There is a crack in everything The light behind to see. Add up the parts, not yours the sum Strike up the march, there is no drum Every heart to love must come Like a refugee
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