| Look at them working in the hot sun
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| The pilloried saints and the fallen ones
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| Working and waiting for the night to come
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| And waiting for a miracle
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| Somewhere out there is a place that’s cool
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| Where peace and balance are the rule
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| Working toward a future like some kind of mystic jewel
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| And waiting for a miracle
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| You rub your palm
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| On the grimy pane
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| In the hope that you can see
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| You stand up proud
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| You pretend you’re strong
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| In the hope that you can be
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| Like the ones who’ve cried
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| Like the ones who’ve died
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| Trying to set the angel in us free
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| While they’re waiting for a miracle
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| Struggle for a dollar, scuffle for a dime
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| Step out from the past and try to hold the line
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| So how come history takes such a long, long time
|
| When you’re waiting for a miracle
|
| You rub your palm
|
| On the grimy pane
|
| In the hope that you can see
|
| You stand up proud
|
| You pretend you’re strong
|
| In the hope that you can be
|
| Like the ones who’ve cried
|
| Like the ones who’ve died
|
| Trying to set the angel in us free
|
| While they’re waiting for a miracle |