| Oh, hair of dread, the time is here
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| Thirty-three, the sheep draw near
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| With eyes so keen, they cannot hear all the lies that buy their ears
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| Oh, horse pants, tobacco chest
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| Oh, sex ghost — oh, nape of neck
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| The tears are crashing on her breast
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| The burning bed is out again
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| If it’s sad, you know it’s true
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| God is glad on bluer moons
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| When your room is all you do, it comes to you
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| Oh, my rank ink instrument
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| Row my boat towards abstinence
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| With thoughts as long as cigarettes
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| Snowed in lips and cross protect
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| Oh, that birdlike appetite
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| Do passive fasts make us contrite?
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| On silken highways of the night
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| The spiders crawl my candlelight
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| Where the sun shines in space
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| God is dumb; |
| God is great
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| But does he love us all the same?
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| Are we okay?
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| And I cried out your name
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| Because I loved the sound it made
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| And because I couldn’t wait to see your face
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| And nothing ever was the same
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| And the stars say, 'Look into my eyes.'
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| But I can’t change if it’s only in my mind
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| And I love you but I don’t have the right
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| And I wanted you so bad tonight |