- Lyrics
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Beau
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Black Raven of the Morning
From a golden sky a raven falls, a raven dies.
In the morning cold, silhouetted by the gold,
She sings like she's never sung before,
Like she'll never sing again.
In the crystal cold of dawn
She will sing her lonely tune.
Flying on her blazing wing,
She's the only bird that sings.
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