| In broad daylight, your clean cut town
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| Has turned into a hunting ground
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| And Mama don’t need no crystal ball
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| To see the weight, that’s coming down
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| 25 hours a day, 25 hours a day
|
| In the heart of night, it howls for more
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| The beast that prowls, the killing floor
|
| And Mama don’t need to read the cards
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| To tell you times are gettin' hard
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| 25 hours a day, 25 hours a day
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| You’ve seen it before
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| It’s been done to you
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| In another life, it spells taboo
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| Mama calls it
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| Mama calls it: Deja voodoo
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| When sweet turns to bitter, and not before
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| When wolves come scratchin', at your door
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| That’s when mama’s tea cup prophecy
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| Will tell you how it’s gonna be
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| 25 hours a day, 25 hours a day
|
| Tomorrow rips up your yesterday
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| While it stars in your old passion play
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| And mama can hear the spirit’s song
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| Singing in her head all night long
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| 25 hours a day, 25 hours a day |