| He showed up on a Saturday and shut the windows down
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| He just came in from the wild, he was nothing but a child
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| The bullets hit a beating heart of curiosity
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| And every heart just lost a beat, a beat in sympathy
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| We called upon the world to see our suffering and cries
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| We were up against the wall, yes, we felt up against the wall
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| His bullets hit the spoken word and words exploded soon
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| Created mass hysteria, just like in a cartoon
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| Fuel to the fire, salt in the wound
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| We face a sad sad Sunday, it’s a stormy afternoon
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| Fuel to the fire, situation’s getting worse
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| Someone’s gotta give, but who will be the first?
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| A single shadow in the night can torch a thousand lights
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| He was nothing but a child and he came in from the wild
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| The bullets hit the people’s heart with hate and bigotry
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| But forever our hearts will beat for love, for liberty
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| Fuel to the fire, salt in the wound
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| We face a sad sad Sunday, it’s a stormy afternoon
|
| Fuel to the fire, situation’s getting worse
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| Someone’s gotta give, but who will be the first?
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| And we set fuel to the fire, salt in the wound
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| We face a sad sad Sunday, it’s a stormy afternoon
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| Fuel to the fire, situation’s getting worse
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| Someone’s gotta give, we got to be the first! |