| One’s life is hard enough
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| To fear the strain or the gun
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| Live by the only rules, the rule of survival!
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| The rule of compassion!
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| Born with a gun in hand
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| To fend for yourself and your other
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| Take the bar, one last time, one last order
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| One last tequila!
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| Take the stairs, from side to side
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| Fall back, back to the starting line
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| To the lap, of a black haired, black haired beauty
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| So hypnotized, by those bright, bright green eyes
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| Grabs my hand and leads the way
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| Takes me up to the room
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| Takes my clothes off and throws me to the bed
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| Eight hours later I wake up without a piece
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| Return to the bar, another order
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| Another tequila!
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| Days pass by relentlessly, every one a reflection
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| Of the other, monotonous is my burden
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| Symphonic sound of the piano playing
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| Just to be disturbed by the slamming doors
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| Silence overcome like the black of night
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| Light disappears behind shadows glaring
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| Ambiance of terror
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| Shivers down the spine
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| Petrified still
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| As the heart starts racing
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| Stand up and face the truth, without fear
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| Negotiate for peace, without fear
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| Always stand your ground, without fear
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| Draw the gun in time, without fear
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| Stand up to the bar, again in time, again an order
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| Again a tequila!
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| Days pass by relentlessly, every one a reflection
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| Of the other, monotonous is my burden
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| The sound of the footsteps, like whispering wind
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| Impossible to close my eyes
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| Stand up to the bar, my last time, my last order
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| My last tequila! |