| Palm Springs
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| A decade in the salt and sun
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| The body clocks and the tears they run
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| No moderation to attract
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| Nor to fail to hide my shame
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| Or the cause that it brings
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| Don’t trust your eyes
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| They’ll never tell you whats inside
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| The bodies lie in a bed of white
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| This resurection is infact
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| Just a field of disery
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| Or the cause that it brings
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| If your not scared
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| Then why’d you bring that gun
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| Dead bodies baking in the center of the sun
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| Hand grenades will blow away
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| The passion let it burn away
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| Your mother said i was the one
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| Jesus im a sinner
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| Jesus im your sin
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| Jesus im a sinner
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| Yes im by myself again
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| Jesus im a sinner
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| In those choked rythem waves
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| One of men and children
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| That could never find a way
|
| If your not scared
|
| Then why’d you bring that gun
|
| Dead bodies baking in the center of the sun
|
| Hand grenades will blow away
|
| The passion let it burn away
|
| Your mother said i was the one
|
| I’ll get a gun
|
| Live the better days
|
| In a dream
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| With bikers and the eldery
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| Their halo’s choke on my haunting mouth
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| Just so they can see, the dirty cel
|
| If your not scared
|
| Then why’d you bring that gun
|
| Dead bodies baking in the center of the sun
|
| Hand grenades will blow away
|
| The passion let it burn away
|
| Your mother said i was the one
|
| I’ll get a gun |