| Lately I’ve been searching, searching for answers
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| I walk around the boulevards, looking for magicians
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| With a cold feet, black coat full of arms
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| Outstretched and a leading voice
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| And I can’t help but shout at the top of my lungs, saying
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| Who, who is next in line to get hurt?
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| Who, who is next in line to get speared?
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| Bad mouth, bad habits
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| Now leads icicles growing out me hair
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| Our past I’d guaranteed you if you’d stay with me
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| Your tomorrow will be endlessly free
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| Don’t know what it was that had made you to come by
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| Though I know god created me beautifully
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| But don’t you know beauty will forever kill
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| Who, who is next in line to get hurt?
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| Who, who is next in line to get speared?
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| I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry
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| I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry
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| I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry
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| I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry
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| I can see our future, see our future, see our future
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| I can see our future, see our future, see our future
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| I can see our future, see our future, see our future
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| I can see our future, see our future, see our future
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| And it isn’t so bright, and it isn’t so bright
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| There is no light, there isn’t any light
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| And it isn’t so bright, and it isn’t so bright
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| There is no light, there isn’t any light
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| Who, who is next in line to get hurt?
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| Who, who is next in line to get my spear?
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| And so I wait, I wait
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| I wait for my next prey
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| I wait
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| Here |