| Do you suspect your brother, was something done to you?
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| We all trust one another, we know this isn’t true
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| For the people’s minds are cluttered
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| With the word we call dislike
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| When our backs are turned in friendship
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| Our brothers they will strike
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| Across the seas in another land
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| Fists are clenched in every hand
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| Step across the boundary line
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| My choice to live is no longer mine
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| Suspicion drill inside their heads
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| And the will to live is what we dread
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| Man’s trust has surely died
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| On the sword’s point suspicion glides
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| Can you control the feeling that you hold
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| The others you neglect, feel your own suspect
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| Between two fires we collect our thoughts
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| Are we all just liars? |
| And our truth is only bought
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| For it’s suspicion that turns it’s back on you
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| Suspicion in the masses down to the very few
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| You cannot trust your brother
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| For the fear he’s after you
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| Between two fires we collect our thoughts
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| Are we all just liars? |
| And our truth is only bought
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| For it’s suspicion that turns it’s back on you
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| They close their eyes to their own demise
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| And pray that it’s not true |