| From early days of infancy, through trembling years
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| Of youth, long murky middle-age and final hours
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| Long in the tooth, he is the hundred names of terror ---
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| Creature you love the least. |
| picture his name before
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| You and exorcise the beast.
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| He roved up and down through history --- spectre
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| With tales to tell. |
| in the darkness when the
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| Campfires dead --- to each his private hell. |
| if you look
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| Behind your shoulder as you feel his eyes to feast, you
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| Can witness now the everchanging nature of the beast.
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| Beastie
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| If you wear a warmer sporran, you can keep the foe at Bay. |
| you can pop those pills and visit some
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| Psychiatrist wholl say --- theres nothing I can do For you, everywheres a danger zone. |
| Id love to help
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| Get rid of it, but Ive got one of my own.
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| Theres a beast upon my shoulder and a fiend upon
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| My back. |
| feel his burning breath a heaving, smoke
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| Oozing from his stack. |
| and he moves beneath the
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| Covers or he lies below the bed. |
| hes the beast upon
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| Your shoulder. |
| hes the price upon your head. |
| hes
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| The lonely fear of dying, and for some, of living too.
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| Hes your private nightmare pricking. |
| hed just love
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| To turn the screw. |
| so stand as one defiant --- yes, and
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| Let your voices swell. |
| stare that beastie in the face
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| And really give him hell. |