| Goodbye my friend and mentor, we’ll never see a man quite like you again.
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| In an age of revolution, restitution we sought
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| You were the spark we were the fuel and we burned bright as the sun.
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| Those were the days we could have fought anyone anywhere on anything,
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| and after all these years how could we try, should we try to follow someone
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| else?
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| I can see the shadows on the foothills east of here;
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| stormy clouds and thunder in my heart.
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| We’re on this train to nowhere and I don’t know if we’ll make it back again
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| because the fire’s burning low and the wind is blowing mighty cold.
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| We’re on this train to nowhere and I don’t know if we’ll make it back again
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| because the fire’s burning low and the wind is blowing mighty cold.
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| Push push push until we get just what we want, we always
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| push push push 'til we can get them what they need
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| We can take the lives of others so that all may truly live,
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| but the will to truly live. |
| is something I can’t give to them.
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| I can see the shadows on the foothills east of here;
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| stormy clouds and thunder in my heart.
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| We’re on this train to nowhere and I don’t know if we’ll make it back again
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| because the fire’s burning low and the wind is blowing mighty cold.
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| We’re on this train to nowhere and I don’t know if we’ll make it back again
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| because the fire’s burning low and the wind is blowing mighty cold.
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| Staring at the pieces of my dim reflection as I look into this Black Sea of atrophy
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| I just got the message of your passing from the man who digs our-
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| They are digging graves for all our dreams and it seems that they are digging
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| by the clock
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| I can feel the old corruption peering from the crack, and I don’t know if we can fight it back again.
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| I can see the shadows on the foothills east of here;
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| stormy clouds and thunder in my heart.
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| We’re on this train to nowhere and I don’t know if we’ll make it back again
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| because the fire’s burning low and the wind is blowing mighty cold.
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| We’re on this train to nowhere and I don’t know if we’ll make it back again
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| because the fire’s burning low and the wind is blowing mighty cold. |