| There’s a cemetery deep below the sea
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| Theres a space reserved for a fool like me
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| It’s the last thing that I’ll do
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| I will tell them I’m with you
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| In the arms of grace when we finally die
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| Will we ascend to a place made of clouds on high
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| At the gates they’ll show you through
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| If they ask me, I’m with you
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| Or I’ll call your name
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| As my lungs expire
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| Through the sulfur flames of a lake of fire
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| It’s the last thing that I’ll do
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| I will tell them I’m with you
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| Time, you’re with me all the time
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| There’s a cemetery deep below the sea
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| Where I’ll hide from news of the G.O.P
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| As the clocks spins sweetly on
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| Will you quote me when I’m gone
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| If a hebrew face and a nehru suit
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| And a tongue-loose taste of the serpents fruit
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| Is the last thing that you see
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| Will you tell them you’re with me?
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| And I’ll lay down on the hills on the judgement day
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| That formed such a man from a lump of clay
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| If they ask me who’s to blame
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| There again I’ll speak your name
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| Time, you’re with me all the time
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| There’s a cemetery deep below the sea
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| And a place in Hell for my friends and me
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| Should they ask me what got me through
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| If they ask me, It was you |