66 or 64,

it doesn't really matter anymore


There's no more throwing sticks into the river

And me I've not just grown, I've grown too clever

Just let go



Back then I was French and yet Chinese

I knew songs of butterflies and bees

But the poets killed the vipers and the songs

Chained the princess and carried her along

Just let go



I remember all the songs

Well, that was right and this is wrong

I would really like to sing along

But I won't try as giants have no tongue



It was all a bluff I guess

All things have to end I guess

Just let go



In this one enchanted place

we're back where we began...

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