| All the Protestant girls
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| They’re all swinging their hips
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| Fresh coat of red on their lips
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| In a solar eclipse
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| I sat on the steps
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| Church bells rang in my ears
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| Big blue sky was so clear
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| When the sun disappeared
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| White horses on the highway ride under this strange and darker sky
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| A wind will come and scatter seeds and it will bury all of these
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| The children sing across the plains their voices rise and quickly fade
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| On a passenger train
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| Slightly out of my mind
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| All the women so kind
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| Sending chills down my spine
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| And I fell into sleep
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| And in that sleep I did dream
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| That I was torn at the seams
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| I don’t know what it means
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| Inside of mama baby kicks
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| And this house is made of stone and sticks
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| All these things can break my bones and everyone must run alone
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| I run all night with bursting lungs
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| I will always be my mother’s son
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| Yes I will always be my mother’s son
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| And I’m no different from anyone
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| Stopped traffic and stadium lights
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| That’s the view from the sky
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| As that old black bird flies
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| I wish I could fly
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| What will we become
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| When we sleep in the dirt
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| Who will rise up first
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| One can never be sure |