| We’ve burnt the brightest of our minds
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| For the sake of being equal
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| In a flock of moaning sheep
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| And now we’re waiting for the leader
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| When we’ve let the nails of fear
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| Drive into our heads so deep
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| That it almost felt like love,
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| At least we made ourselves believe
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| But i still can’t get, no i still don’t know
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| Why after all these years
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| We still need someone to suffer
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| For our mistakes, in the name of our future
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| Like they haven’t paid enough in the past for us in present
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| And three words of the truth
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| Still cost us thousands of lives
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| And if this is your home
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| These are your people
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| Is there something but lies
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| You have left for your children?
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| Can you take the blame
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| Can you take the blame for those
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| Who remain unforgiven?
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| You were scared that we would remember
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| All of your crimes proclaimed as the feats
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| You can bury every bone, scatter words to letters
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| Burn every broken home, but you can’t steal the promise
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| Made by the mother in front of metal doors
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| Her greatest fear after the biggest loss
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| How can we dare to forget?
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| History is made by the cries of the lost generation
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| History is made by the ink that colored the sheets with frustration
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| History is made by the years of courage and hopes of the children
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| History is made by the ones who refused to let it be written. |