| Do you know the glorious?
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| Do you know they breathe and live?
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| The strict attention that they give
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| Toward their competition is comparable
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| To any dominant country that exists today
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| Not allowing their alertness to be distracted
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| While they take what they want
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| Your actions are useless
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| The appalled know not to question or act
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| Toward the glorious in a harmful manner
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| The result would disastrous
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| Either side you choose can be negative or positive
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| So I appalled walk away with their eyes closed
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| And mouths gaping open trying to take in each breath
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| They can as they walk away
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| They never question them
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| They never even think twice about it
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| And all we here is his born
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| You can hear him strain as the pitch retreats
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| Deeper into a gloom monotone note
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| There is a sudden silence which consumes the crowd
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| A second later faces start to grow old with age
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| Stress soaks eyes with a foggy coat of depression
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| Lips wrinkled as the air grows bitterly cold
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| I am running trying not to look back
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| Leaping over fallen bodies
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| And seeking shelter from this living hell |