| I’m still a young man
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| So I think very little of death
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| Who really does, 'til it’s coming for them?
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| And I know with each breath I come one closer
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| But death is just a hook behind the door
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| Where I’ll leave my dirty clothes
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| They may dump my body in the sea
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| Spread my ashes miles wide,
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| It won’t matter,
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| All my parts will realign.
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| They rush to find each other
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| When they hear their Lover’s cry,
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| And death will be abandoned
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| When He comes back for His bride
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| Saints are never buried,
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| They are seeds planted
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| Who bring about a greater harvest when
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| They burst forth from
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| The earth that needed their fruits,
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| But it could never hope to make
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| Enough room for their roots.
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| (Ah Ah Ah Ah Oh)
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| Death is swallowed up,
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| (Ah Ah Ah Ah Oh)
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| It owns nothing in me,
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| (Ah Ah Ah Ah Oh)
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| Oh, death is swallowed up,
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| (Ah Ah Ah Ah Oh)
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| It owns nothing in me,
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| Oh, precious in the sight of the Lord
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| Is the death of His faithful ones.
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| Precious in the sight of the Lord
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| Is the death of His faithful ones,
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| Oh, death is swallowed up.
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| Oh, it was always you, it was always you.
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| Oh, it was always you, it was always you.
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| Oh, it was always you, it was always you.
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| Oh, it was always you, it was always you.
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| Oh, it was always you, it was always you. |