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He hath come to the bosom of his beloved
Smiling on him, she beareth him to highest heav'n
With yearning heart
On thee we gaze, O' gold-wing'd messenger of mighty Gods
Goldwing angel
Go home, don't tell
Anyone what you are
You're sacred and they're starved
And their art is gettin' dark
And there you are to tear apart
Tear apart, tear apart, tear apart
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