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• The Gymnast, High Above The Ground • | by The Decemberists
The gymnast, high above the ground,
Limbers up and falls, tender, down.
Ankles splayed and all tied,
The gymnast long has arrived.
Lazy, your long sister lays
Waiting out this long light brigade.
Prayed for snow a long time,
And, lazy, it long has arrived.

Through the tarlatan holes
You've been slipping, been slipping away.
La de dum dum.
And the weather will hold
It's been ever so, ever so gray.
La de dum dum.

And here as we're coming down
We're sounding out: it's a terrible, terrible tide
As it lights upon your eye.

But there on the motorway, reeks of marmalade,
It's a chemical, chemical kind
As it lights upon your eye,
Lights upon your eye.

The bosun calls upon the quay.
Compass gone, he long has lost his way
To lighthouse shine, to calm tide.
The bosun long has arrived.

Through the tarlatan holes
You've been slipping, been slipping away.
La de dum dum.
And the weather will hold
It's been ever so, ever so gray.
La de dum dum.

But here as we're coming down
We're sounding out: it's a terrible, terrible tide
As it lights upon your eye.

But there on the motorway, reeks of marmalade,
It's a chemical, chemical kind
As it lights upon your eye,
Lights upon your eye.

April marches on.
April marches on.
April marches on.
April marches on.
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