| In a city with a fever
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| The temperature is rising
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| Lost in endless pleasure
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| Leaves run wild with sap
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| In our exotic land
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| The men are bright and handsome
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| And the women are a wonder
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| Balanced on a razor’s edge
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| And there’s a flood
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| Flowing through your window
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| And a god has made us deaf
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| And now we only hear
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| His claustrophobic music
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| As guests inside our own house
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| Waiting for the recompense given to Job
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| So if you get born on your knees, then learn to pray
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| You get born on your knees and learn to pray
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| Our money has disguised itself as nature
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| Hope is our illusion
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| And we’re restless 'til we rest in
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| Seduced by darling idols of the polite world
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| With a slice of fortune one night
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| You’re nomadic in the next life
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| Spying through a keyhole
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| At those born in the purple
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| At a needle in a haystack
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| At stars in distant orbit
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| Like jesters on a tightrope
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| We stride to our disasters
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| On unedifying highways
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| We reap the whirlwind
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| If you get born on your knees, then learn to pray
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| You get born on your knees and learn to pray
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| Am I a lonely one-man choir
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| Confessing to myself?
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| You know I’ve tried to read between the lines
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| I’ve tried to understand the signs
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| A witness to Rome’s decline
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| If you get born on your knees, then learn to pray
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| You get born on your knees and learn to pray
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| Get born on your knees and learn to pray
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| Born on your knees and learn to pray
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| Born on your knees and learn to pray
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| Born on your knees then learn to pray
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| Born on your knees and learn to pray |