| Truth hides under fallen rocks and stones
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| At the end of a disconnected phone (that's where the truth hides)
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| Truth hides buried deep beneath your feet
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| At the end of an unmarked street (that's where the truth hides)
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| Truth hides with the people written out of history
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| Black leaders and inventors whose names
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| Remain a mystery
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| Great women recorded on ripped out pages
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| Obliterated wisdom, covered up faces
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| Truth is lost in the mists of eMpTy Vision
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| And found in the notebooks of those wrongfully imprisoned
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| And in the evidence that was never brought to trial
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| But not in the void behind the newsreaders' smile
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| Truth hides under fallen rocks and stones
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| At the end of a disconnected phone (that's where the truth hides)
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| Truth hides at the end of an unmarked street
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| Stored (?) deep beneath your feet (that's where the truth hides)
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| Truth it’s a hide under rocks and stones
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| At the end of your line
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| Down an unmarked street
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| Truth it’s a hide under rocks and stones
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| At the end of your line
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| Truth hides whenever we lose our focus
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| Slips out the back, quickly replaced by the bogus
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| Fleeing soundbites disguised as facts
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| That reappear in the small print on every contract
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| Truth hides on the other side of a two-way mirror
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| In countless documents sent straight to the shredder
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| That might finally give us the whole of the picture
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| But until the day we decide to dig a little deeper
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| We know that truth will hide
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| Under fallen rocks and stones
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| At the end of a disconnected phone
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| Down an unmarked street
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| And buried deep beneath your feet
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| Truth it’s a hide under rocks and stones
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| At the end of your line
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| Down an unmarked street
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| Truth it’s a hide under rocks and stones
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| At the end of your line… |