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Peter Hammill
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Magog (In Bromine Chambers)
In Bromine Chambers* There can be no mercy, No bitter flagellation for your sins; No forgiveness and no sackcloth Can cease the dance Of ashes on the wind.
Too late now for a wish To change all wishing; Too late to change, to breathe, to grow. Too late to smother out the tell-tale footprints Which mark your passage through the greying snow.
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