Into the mystic
We were born before the wind Also younger than the sun Ere the bonnie boat was won As we sailed into the mystic Hark, now hear the sailors cry Smell the sea and feel the sky Let your soul and spirit...
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Ah. . . poor Quinn Mallory. He was just a boy. Sliding to him was like a box of matches. He opened the box, le played with fire, and he got burned! Like lcarus-- he flew too close to the sun, and. . ....
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