| We want a band that plays loud and hard every night
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| That doesn’t care how many people are counted at the door
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| That would travel one million miles and ask for nothing more than a plate of
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| food and a place to rest
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| They’d strike chords that cut like a knife
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| It would mean so much more than t-shirts or a ticket stub
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| They’d stop at nothing short of a massacre
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| Everyone would leave with the memory that there was no place else in the world
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| And this was where they always belonged
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| (whoa, whoa…)
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| We would dance like no one was watching
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| With one fist in the air
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| Our arena just basements and bookstores across an underground America
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| With this fire we could light
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| Just gimme a scene where the music is free
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| And the beer is not the life of the party
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| There’s no need to shit talk or impress
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| 'Cause honesty and emotion are not looked down upon
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| And every promise that’s made and bragged
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| Is meant if not kept
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| We’d do it all because we have to, not because we know why
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| Beyond a gender, race, and class, we could find what really holds us back
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| (whoa, whoa…)
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| Let’s make everybody sing
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| That they are the beginning and ending of everything
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| That we all are stronger than everything they taught us that we should fear |