| Father my father, well, what have you left for me?
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| What am I to make of this convoluted legacy?
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| You raised me, ingrained me, led me to believe
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| That the world had some order, a bedrock of honesty
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| With this naive outlook in my mind
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| Imagine then my profound surprise
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| When my eyes were opened to the reality
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| A world built on half truths and Christian hypocrisy
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| Where left hands are wrung to deplore all our poverties
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| While right hands dig shallow graves to bury the meek
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| What have we learned?
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| «Do as we say, not as we do and don’t ask»
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| Like the students at the Sorbonne in sixty eight
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| I’ve got a conundrum, I and the letter of the law are agreed
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| But the spirit’s not with us in working until
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| «Everyone has everything they need»
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| I know what I must look like, some kind of revolutionary
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| But I’m just trying to set some things straight
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| To salvage that honesty
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| Father, I’ve tried to follow you
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| In what you say and what you do
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| Father, I’ve always followed you
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| I’m everything you wanted me to be |