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The Presence Of Your Grace

The Telescopes


Supposin' we're all wished right out of space
S'alright, we float on by
But as we fall we bathe
In ultra-violet rays
Suppose it's heaven that we're falling from
Or
Your Grace
Your Grace
We're fallin from the presence of your grace

No reason why we pass we slip away
To grow a fresher taste of sun...
And glide and glide...
In the air is a breeze and the sooner you breathe,
Should this be heaven...
Or
Your Grace
Your Grace
Your Grace
Your Grace
We're fallin from the presence of your grace

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