| It’s a brushfire spreading, feeding as it moves
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| It’s a disappeared glacier, it’s an airborne flu
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| It’s your disbelieving eyes locked in concrete miles
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| It’s your yawning conscious and your lawyer’s smile
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| It’s an occupied country, foaming at the mouth
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| No smoking gun, no mushroom cloud
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| It’s a military mother with a boy in hell
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| And it’s a flag draped casket down an oil well
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| It’s an Argentina school girl, gagged and bound
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| It’s a torture camp, it’s a long way down
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| It’s the constant brace and shock of now
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| It’s the whole damn world turned inside out, all right
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| It’s a march to extinction with your god in step
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| It’s his name in your mouth, it’s his cross on your neck
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| It’s a farm boy sprinting over desert dirt
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| And he’s panting the 'Our Father' in staccato spurts
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| Now that’s his automatic rifle and it tells no lies
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| That’s his truth in your stomach, it’s no alibi
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| But the trouble lies on the other side
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| With an equal truth prepping for his holy night
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| He sees his crescent and the star in the virgin sky
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| He hears the call of milk and honey from the afterlife
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| And as he eases to the check point, he is calm and sure
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| It’s collateral damage, it’s the cost of war
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| It’s another bag of bones for the gods to sort
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| It’s just another bag of bones for the gods to sort
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| It’s the species disappearing, all the birds fly south
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| In a January heat wave and a pulsing crowd
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| It’s an African militia, kids with sub machines
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| It’s a conflict diamond on your bride to be
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| It’s the dispossessed lining up every gate
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| It’s the facts worth facing, faced way too late
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| It’s the mission of modernity, go get what’s yours'
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| 'Til there’s nothing leftover to get no more
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| And it’s not what were owed but it’s what we’ve earned
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| And it’s closer than we realized that it’s time now, to burn
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| It’s time now to burn
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| Oh, it’s time now to burn |