Downwind there is a comin',
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A rumble in the sand.
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Sets our feet to running,
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For the fear of the faceless man.
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For the fear of the faceless man.
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But if I had an arsenal and if it was ten feet tall,
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Then I would put an end to it all.
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And if I had wheat to burn,
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And if I had a lot to learn,
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Then it still would not matter what color you were.
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And if I had but one wish on which to stand,
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I'd wish the weapons all turn to sand.
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I'd see the gunners watch their empty hands,
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Fall down to their sides.
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Downwind they come up lonely,
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All hungry for the kill.
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The horses do the pounding,
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But it's a blood that's going to spill.
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It's a dark blood that's going to spill.
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But if I had an arsenal and if it was ten feet tall,
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Then it wouldn't matter what color you were.
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And if I had but one wish on which to stand,
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I'd see the weapons all turn to sand.
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I'd see the gunners watch their empty hands,
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Fall down to their sides.
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If I had but one wish on which to stand,
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I'd have the weapons all leave Sudan.
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I'd see the gunners wash their empty hands,
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Down by the riverside.
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Ghost town in my homeland,
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I will come back again.
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And if you make a ghost of me,
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I will still be free.
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Ghost town in my homeland,
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I will come back again.
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If you make a ghost out of me,
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I will still be free.
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If I had but one wish on which to stand,
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I'd see the weapons all leave this land.
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I'd see the gunners watch their empty hands,
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Fall down to their sides.
|
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If I had but one wish on which to stand,
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I'd see the weapons all leave Sudan.
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I'd see the gunners wash their empty hands,
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Down by the riverside.
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Down by the riverside.
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Down by the riverside.
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Sudan
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State Radio |