| Justify, as if it were our right to say
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| Now decide, which liar you trust and which one chose our fate
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| Fed in time as a choice we think we’re making
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| It’s the guns that we know vs. the guns we never will
|
| When illusions burn where will we be left standing
|
| Still with the guns that we know vs. the guns we never will
|
| Pacify, with false hope of safety within
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| Never mind that they were never there where could we begin
|
| Fed in time as a choice we think we’re making
|
| It’s the guns that we know vs. the guns we never will
|
| When illusions burn where will we be left standing
|
| Still with the guns that we know vs. the guns we never will
|
| We call upon god for which killing’s permitted
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| And then brag out loud that our side made the grade
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| We better pray, with this as our position
|
| Our wrongs don’t come back and burn us down to the ground
|
| And what gives us the right to judge without reprisal
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| To strike retaliation and wash our hands of blood
|
| And who gave us the crown to claim that we’re divine
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| Without needing repentance and drive them into hell
|
| Fed in time as a choice we think we’re making
|
| It’s the guns that we know vs. the guns we never will
|
| When illusions burn where will we be left standing
|
| It’s the devil that we know vs. the devil that we kill
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| The devil that we kill
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| That we kill
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| The stations of our will
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| Fulfil |