| A narrow path runs along the river
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| From the burial ground you might see it Leading to a temple of secrets
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| Where they meet once a week… to dance and feast
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| Lula is dancing to the voodoo drums
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| Twisting, turning, round and round
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| She is ready to receive the LOA
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| She is ready for the God
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| This one is Damballah
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| Voodoo, voodoo, voodoo
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| Total emptiness inside
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| As Damballah gets ready for her ride
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| Casting out from Lula’s head
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| One of two souls that seems to be dead
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| Traveling deep in a trance
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| Lula’s legs are getting weak
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| The LOA has seized its horse …
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| Lula is not the one that’s speaking now
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| Lula is not the one that’s lying now
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| Drink, drink girl, drink the chicken’s blood
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| Drink, drink girl, drink and feed the God
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| If this is all you think they do, oh you better think again
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| Cause there is so much more to voodoo, oh than meets the eye
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| Voodoo, voodoo, voodoo
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| Human hair on waxen dools, pins through their knees
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| Pins through their little heads, and through their bellics
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| Ahh they’re coming to get you, they’re coming for you now
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| Voodoo, voodoo, voodoo |