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de Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

She sits at the window
Her hands folded on her sleeping lap
As He steps from the tomb
In his rags and his wounds

Into the yellow light that streams
Through the window, He brings
Peace and good tidings to the land
Peace and good tidings to the land

And as the waters cover the sea
And as you wake and turn to me
Peace and good tidings He will bring
Good tidings to all things

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