A Serengeti song in the well throat of a tusk horn made of time. Dust dances on dune tops to your downbeat and herds run molten pathways to my center settle sanctuary. A Serengeti song in the well throat of a tusk horn made of time. In the caves of blue water deep, in the mountains of white stone. A Serengeti song in the well throat of a tusk horn. I hear the call from the voice of heaven Dripping the sweet life from fifteen thousand light years above to the lusting lips of creation below.
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