| Are we beloved indeed?
|
| What is creed and what is crime?
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| Heavenly? |
| Out of one’s mind?
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| People love, esteem
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| And cherish who they crucified
|
| As victims we pretend to cry
|
| Tragedy, end of days?
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| Or it’s just the blindness of a man
|
| Loyalty or fanaticism?
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| Hopeless, it makes me feel so lonely
|
| Homicide
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| Felony
|
| A gunfire
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| Agony
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| You rest the bullets on the altar
|
| And you die
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| And you kill
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| Dead inside
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| Your aberration under your faith
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| Taken dreams, taken lives
|
| Taken angels from the innocence’s arms
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| Priory, house of pain!
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| It’s drivin' nails in the cold rain
|
| But i feel the end of the storm
|
| And free the twelve caught souls
|
| When we see the burnin' crosses for relief
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| We rely on the unknown to leave our guilt behind
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| Mercy won’t erase your lies
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| Face the evidence that god is something to relieve
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| Heaven is freedom and hell is here
|
| Taken dreams, taken lives
|
| Taken angels from the innocence’s arms
|
| Priory, house of pain!
|
| It’s drivin' nails in the cold rain
|
| But i feel the end of the storm
|
| And free the twelve caught souls
|
| When we see the burnin' crosses for relief
|
| Now i see the end of the storm
|
| And glance the twelve taught souls
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| They are free somewhere resting in the memories |