| dear preacher, thanks for making time for me today
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| hope you don’t mind if i hide behind the curtain
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| it’s been fifteen years since my last confession
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| by your good book’s standards, i’ve sinned like a champion
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| but that book seems a tad bit out-dated
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| please forgive me, for questioning divinity
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| it’s an ugly job, but i think i’m up for it
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| i’m not saying who’s right
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| i’m just saying there’s more than one way
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| to skin a religion
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| there’s more than one way
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| to explain our existence
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| reverend, sir, i don’t want to seem malevolent
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| my teenage angst is far behind me but father, certainly it’s troubling to see
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| all these people kneeling, instead of dealing
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| with the fact that we are all we have
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| so, rise up! |
| rise up!
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| there’s no one to worship!
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| but plenty of life to lose!
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| i’m not saying «let's burn down the church»
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| but do you want to hear my confession?
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| it’s my greatest sin.
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| okay, here it is:
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| i wasted half my life on the thought that i’d live forever!
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| i wasn’t raised, to seize the day, but to work and worship
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| 'cause «he that liveth and believeth"supposedly never dies
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| rise up! |
| rise up!
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| and live a full life!
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| 'cause when it’s over, it’s done
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| so rise up! |
| rise up!
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| dance and scream and love!
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| you’re not the chosen one
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| and i’m not the chosen one |