| One thousand stories, one thousand years
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| Each song it goes from hand to hand
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| They tell of kings, they sing of war
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| And the news of far off distant lands
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| They sing of how the blues came to be
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| Their own king sold them into slavery
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| The sad chords melt
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| Where the sadness came to be
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| When their own king sold them
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| Into slavery
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| One thousand stories, one thousand years
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| The truth of guilt and shame
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| But a king who sold his people out
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| To a world of whips and chains
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| The sound of pain the smell of fear
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| A treason born in hell
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| The king who sold his people out
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| It’s a song they know so well
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| Cross the music, as you cross the sea
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| Cross your loved ones broken bones
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| Cos forever never to be free
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| Oh the king who sold his own …
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| Oh the king who sold his own … |