when will the weak shame the strong
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and not collapse into our own arms
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when will we raise our flags past half-mast
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and not collapse into our own arms
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but shame will keep us who we are
|
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shame is the anchor tied around my ankle
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shame keeps me low and close to the bottom
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where i am the least
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at the bottom
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where pride has never been and never will
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the swell of my chest
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i stand on this
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where pride has never been and never will
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the swell of my chest
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i call this brave
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but how dare i call this love
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and not bear my cross to the end
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how can i call this love when all that i am
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is because your love endures my back to it
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your love endures my back to it
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your love endures my back to it
|
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One: Twentyseven
|
As Cities Burn |