| I don’t mean to be a misery, but I have to tell you, tell you straight:
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| There are zombies in the closet and they’re not prepared, prepared to wait
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| We are the tribe that eats itself and spits out not a morsel thing
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| And navigates this desert by our cold dead reckoning
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| Does anybody have the charts, coordinates or maps--
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| A hint of a direction to avoid further mishaps?
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| A throw of dice, a toss of coin decides what Mrs. Luck might bring
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| As we navigate this desert by our cold dead reckoning
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| Turmoil, tempest, tall tsunami, haven’t we heard it all before?
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| Await the Beast to join the feast; |
| this party is an open door
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| All are welcome! |
| All are joined in penitence, if it please the King
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| While we navigate this desert by our cold dead reckoning
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| We placed our trust in sad self-doubting leaders who have led
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| Led us through the dark to slip amongst the ranks and files of walking dead
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| Send to us a guiding symbol--tiny bird upon the wing--
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| As we navigate this desert by our cold dead reckoning
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| Now, back across the Doggerland: will higher mighty force redeem
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| The one who dropped the moral compass, failed to fulfill the dream?
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| Will testimony tarnish and will sticky reputation cling
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| As we navigate this desert by our cold dead reckoning?
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| Cheer up, Charlie, brave a smile; |
| lift your chin and walk the walk
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| See angels watching over all; |
| the snake, the dove, the circling hawk
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| There must be another Eden: future garden of earthly delight
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| Next time, no fruit; |
| in birthday suit, walk naked through the heavenly night
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| As we navigate this desert by our cold dead reckoning |