Your class, your caste, your country, sect, your name or your tribe
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There's people always dying trying to keep them alive
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There's bodies decomposing in containers tonight
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In an abandoned building where
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Squatters made a mural of a Mexican girl
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With fifteen cans of spray paint and a chemical swirl
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She's standing in the ashes at the end of the world
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Four winds blowing through her hair
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But when great Satan's gone... the Whore of Babylon...
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She just can't sustain the pressure where it's placed
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She caves,She caves
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The Bible's blind, the Torah's deaf, the Qur'an's mute
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If you burned them all together you'd get close to the truth still
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They're pouring over Sanskrit on the Ivy League moons
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While shadows lengthen in the sun
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Cast all the school and meditation built to soften the times
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And hold us at the center while the spiral unwinds
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It's knocking over fences crossing property lines
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Four Winds, cry until it comes
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And it's the Sum of Man slouching towards Bethlehem
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A heart just can't contain all of that empty space
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It breaks. It breaks. It breaks.
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Well I went back by rented Cadillac and company jet
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Like a newly orphaned refugee retracing my steps
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All the way to Cassadaga to commune with the dead
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They said, "You'd better look alive"
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And I was off to old Dakota where a genocide sleeps
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In the Black Hills, the Badlands, the calloused East
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I buried my ballast. I made my peace.
|
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Heard Four Winds, leveling the pines
|
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But when great Satan's gone... the Whore of Babylon...
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She just can't remain with all that outer space
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She breaks. She breaks. She caves. She caves.
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She breaks.
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You better look alive.
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-----------------
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Four Winds
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The Killers |