Album: The King Is Dead

Here we come to a turning of the season
Witness to the arc towards the sun
The neighbor's blessed burden within reason
Becomes a burden borne of all in one
And nobody, nobody knows
Let the yoke fall from our shoulders,
Don't carry it all, don't carry it all
We are all our hands and holders,
Beneath this bold and brillian sun
This I swear to all!
A monument to build beneath the arbors
Upon a cliff that towers towards the trees
With every vessel pitching hard to starboard
Lay it's head on summer's freckled knees
And nobody, nobody knows
Let the yoke fall from our shoulders,
Don't carry it all, don't carry it all
We are all our hands and holders,
Beneath this bold and brilliant sun
This I swear to all,
This I swear to all
Buried wreath of trillium and ivy
Laid upon the body of a boy
Lazy will the long come from it's hiding
Return this quiet searcher to the soil
So raise a glass to turnings of the season
Watch it as it arcs towards the sun
And you must bear your neighbor's burden within in reason
And your labours will be borne when all is done
And nobody, nobody knows
Let the yoke fall from our shoulders,
Don't carry it all, don't carry it all
We are all our hands and holders,
Beneath this bold and brilliant sun
This I swear to all,
And this I swear to all,
And this I swear to all,
And this I swear to all,
To all, to all, to all

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