But do not ask the price I pay,
I must live with my quiet rage,
Tame the ghosts in my head,
That run wild and wish me dead.
Should you shake my ash to the wind
Lord, forget all of my sins
Let me die where I lie,
Beneath the curse of my lovers eyes.

I walk slow, I walk slow.
Take me hand, help me on my way.
- Lovers Eyes, Mumford & Sons

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