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The tower straightens its silver stone back once more
and I have not to ask whom the bell tolls for.

The flowers wilt, 'ere it tis the last time I am sure
And they wilt because they know whom the bell tolls for.

Innocence is broken into the silence that now roars
And it is from that roar, that i know whom the bell tolls for.

Ring on, and sing my life as what was never wore

No Golden Fleece, no crown of dignity, doth this bell toll for.
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