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  1. The Fly

From the recording The Fly

Lyrics

The FlyLittle Fly Thy summers play, My thoughtless hand Has brush’d away.  Am not I A fly like thee? Or art not thou A man like me?  For I dance And drink & sing:Till some blind hand Shall brush my wing.  If thought is life And strength & breath: And the want Of thought is death; Then am I A happy fly, If I live, Or if I die.