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| | | Mad SongThere are several official versions of this composition:- the original studio recording from 2006
- a live recording from 2007
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Lyrics | | | The wild winds weep And the night is a-cold; Come hither, Sleep, And my griefs infold: But lo! the morning peeps Over the eastern steeps, And the rustling birds of dawn The earth do scorn. |
| | | Lo! to the vault Of paved heaven, With sorrow fraught My notes are driven: They strike the ear of night, Make weep the eyes of day; They make mad the roaring winds, And with tempests play. |
| | | Like a fiend in a cloud, With howling woe, After night I do crowd, And with night will go; I turn my back to the east, From whence comforts have increas'd; For light doth seize my brain With frantic pain. |
| | | (Written by William Blake) |
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