Born again, born again, each day
anew,
Like day itself, yellow
born of blue.
To sleep is to die;
To awake to be new;
To be fresh, t’ve been washed
In the ocean of a dream.
Born again, born again, each day
anew,
Like day itself, yellow
born of blue.
Light comes, then goes,
You rest, you die,
Drifting in the cleansing sea-flow,
Floating for a time.
Yet you wake, are born, and rise
anew,
Like day itself, which is yellow
born of blue.
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