| I hear the crying of the hungry in the deserts where they’re wandering
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| Hear them crying out for Heaven’s own, benevolence upon them
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| Hear destructive power prevailin', I hear fools falsely hailin'
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| To the crooked wits of tyrants when they call
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| I hear them all, I hear them all, I hear them all
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| I hear the sounds of tearing pages and the roar of burnin' paper
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| All the crimes and acquisitions turned to air and ash and vapor
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| And the rattle of the shackle far beyond emancipator
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| And the lowliest who gather in their stalls
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| I hear them all, I hear them all, I hear them all
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| So while you sit and whistle Dixie with your money and your power
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| I can hear the flowers growin' in the rubble of the towers
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| I hear leaders quit their lyin', I hear babies quit their cryin'
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| I hear soldiers quit their dyin' one and all
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| I hear them all, I hear them all, I hear them all
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| I hear the tender words from Zion, I hear Noah’s water fall
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| See the gentle Lamb of Judas sleeping at the feet of Buddha
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| And the prophets from Elijah to the old Paiute Wovoka
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| Take their places at the table when they’re called
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| I hear them all, I hear them all, I hear them all
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| I hear them all, I hear them all, I hear them all
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| I hear them all, I hear them all, I hear them all |