Fight priest, Fight.
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Take pictures and make "alright"
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What you have lost,
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Give pride back to the ground.
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You got "all you want."
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But you've got a wreck.
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Everyone in this whole wide world.
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Wake up and panic.
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Fortune wears a red dress, but her bones smell of death.
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Panic.
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They all stare, but no one seeks.
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They all claim, but no one speaks.
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They all hear what they want.
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Panic preacher, panic.
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Beware of these sheep in the costume of wolves lies,
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They come in pairs of two and we only die twice,
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But for such a long time.
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Just because you kiss a lot, that don't mean you're in love.
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Just because you have begun, that doesn't mean you've won.
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Well I was a second son, not born but just once, and all my friends be gray.
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The fade out.
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They all close the door and no one speaks out loud.
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The fade out.
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Take my heart.
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Prophet.
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Kenny Gibler (Play The Piano Like A Disease)
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The Chariot |