| The tales of lies and all those things
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| We tought about those days
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| The certainty that judgment brings
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| And all those petty ways
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| The papers on the desk that day
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| The sun is coming soon
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| If I could force another smile
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| It’d probably be for you
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| So lay here baby, drink this wine
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| We’ve got music in our hearts
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| But the devil’s got his place in me
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| And there’s no color to his art
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| So I’ll lay my head with spinning stars
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| And the poet’s broken dream
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| And sip this poison while I dance to this off tempo beat
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| And I feel those broken in my heart
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| Their tears are like my own
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| I see the fields where blood is spilt
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| Where all good men turn to bone
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| And the torture of a thousand years of human story
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| The killing of the innocent while the wealthy sow their seeds
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| So lay here baby, drink this wine
|
| We’ve got music in our hearts
|
| But the devil’s got his place in me
|
| And I don’t know where to start
|
| So I’ll lay my head with spinning stars
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| And the poet’s broken dream
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| And sip this poison while I dance to this off tempo beat
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| And I’ll fall asleep forevermore
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| My face will never show
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| I’ll leave your house at 5 am
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| Kiss your cheek before I go
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| And I’ll write down all those precious words that I could never say
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| Cos' the devil’s got his plance in me
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| And I’m meeting him today |