| Whores and baying jackals
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| Come to pay respects
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| Weeping as they mourn their icon
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| A saint only in death
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| Don’t try to understand what’s going on
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| Just know past events will be chanced before too long
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| These liars at a funeral will soon feed
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| On an open casket and vacant memories
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| Before the worms can feast
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| They’re misremembered for what they were
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| The crows descend on grief
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| And amity that never was
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| So many souls bereaved
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| Look how they carry on
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| Why do they feel the need
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| To praise the dead they once abhorred?
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| Once loathed in life
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| Now praised in death
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| I know what they all seek
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| A brief connection to this world
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| A break from apathy
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| To feel the semblance of a soul
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| You can always count on those
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| Ignorant to truths they know
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| Such polite hypocrisy
|
| Can’t you see there’s something wrong?
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| Once loathed in life
|
| Now praised in death
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| Besieged by lies
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| Once loathed in death
|
| Fools acquiesce
|
| You know you can’s escape it
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| So you soon accept it
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| As they shun those who oppose them
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| The reality sets in
|
| Scattering like the ashes of the wicked dead
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| Cowards crawl to their holes
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| With their spines and thoughts bereft
|
| We mute the silent screams
|
| As our live are carried on
|
| Disavowing sickening acts
|
| Once the horror’s laid to rest
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| And you dare not speak the truth
|
| Or you will be spat upon
|
| Rewrite their epitaphs
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| And preach the good of what they were |