| «If you’re always running, you ain’t no kind of man
|
| Face up your fears kid, fight for what you take stock in
|
| Out here on rolling hills, there ain’t no alibis
|
| Only sweat and dirt, only that open sky
|
| If you take nothing more than these simple words
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| With your head held high kid, you will have your day
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| You can leave hardened, I won’t think twice of it
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| If you got a battle back home, you got no reason to stay»
|
| Out there on rolling hills, he thought of days back home
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| All the pain and hurt, his mother praying alone
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| Sleep never came for him, no rest for wicked men
|
| In those starless skies, the moon shined shame on him
|
| He found redemption in pale saints that took him in
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| His grey eyes, hopefulness, that only youth can feel before life sours them
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| «Where you from, where you been?» |
| the boy would ask
|
| He could never answer, it was the truth he lacked
|
| «I'm from nowhere kid, I’ve been to hell and back
|
| I’m a loner kid, I got no grace and no tact»
|
| He had nothing more than those simple words
|
| He was a runner and a coward always losing his way
|
| Still no sleep for him, «I ain’t no wicked man»
|
| There would be no night like this for him ever again
|
| He would change his fate, he would mend the breaks
|
| He left that night with parting words to lead his way
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| «Don't you be like me
|
| Don’t you be like me
|
| Don’t you be like me»
|
| And that moonlit sky shined praise down on him |