| We were in a field looking at headstones
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| Making up stories and autobiographical songs
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| Some we made rich men, some we made gods
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| To some we gave power
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| And the rest were like us
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| We were in a cave with bones in our nose
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| We were notating history with paleolithical marks
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| We picked our leader and gave him our sons
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| They left us as children
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| And brought us all back clubs
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| Someone ought to teach these kids to dance
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| Lest the forget what it is to live
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| Someone ought to teach these kids to dance
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| Lest they miss what a gift it is
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| Someone ought to teach these kids to dance
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| Lest they forget what it is to live
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| She was in a New World
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| They built her a box
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| They showed her the floor plan and its sociopolitical walls
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| They told her that progress was a Bear and a Bull
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| That made their bed in the West and made us all successful
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| But this icon of insurrection stands opposed to the populace
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| This icon of insurrection won’t be sleeping in
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| Someone ought to teach that girl to dance
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| Lest she miss what a dream she is
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| Someone ought to teach that girl to dance
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| Lest she forget what a dream she is
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| This icon of insurrection stands opposed to the populace
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| With eyes wide open, her arms wide open |