| Before me lies a wounded soul
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| A spirit at the end of a lonely road
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| Such a cruel fate looms yet he has no fear
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| As the sands of existence fall like tears
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| All joy had perished
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| All contempt was mine
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| Once I held the hands
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| Hands of a dying man
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| Another crow lingers overhead
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| Now that I know the cold touch
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| From the hands of a dying man
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| Death devours never resting
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| Never fed, never repenting
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| Robbed of justice, stripped faith
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| Accepting this all it what it must take
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| So pass your judgement
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| An cast your stones
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| But only once you’ve held the hands, hands of a dying man
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| I will grant your forgiveness
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| For the wrong you’ve done
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| Once you’ve felt the coldest touch
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| From the hands of a dying man
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| And for those who still speak names in vain
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| My only justice lies in knowing
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| They’ll eat every fucking word!
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| So now i use this to…
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| Strengthen, the fight inside of me
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| Strengthen, beyond what you can see
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| Strengthen, my resolve
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| In honour of those who choose to carry on
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| I strengthen, the fight inside of me
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| Strengthen, beyond what you can see
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| Strengthen, my resolve
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| Always in the names of those who carry on
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| One day you’ll know a touch so cold
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| And you’ll embrace it all alone
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| And what inside it what you would
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| This is where it all strikes cold |