| Confessions, they’re in line
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| Cut through the tape, say all the right words
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| Skin: lies wide open
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| A crimson savior became his god
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| Don’t ask for my pity
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| For those who give in give in to the torment
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| Of what we must live with
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| Still the hand comes down
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| As I wait to be baptized
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| By the son of Salome
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| I’m just a son of passive resistance
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| If you think I’ll be lowered, you’re sadly mistaken
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| I’m «just a chore,» «no reason to be here»
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| You think I’ll be lowered, you’re sadly mistaken
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| «Be like me,» no thank you
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| I’d rather remain among the living
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| «Get out the belt,» I’ll take it
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| I’d rather remain among the living
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| «It's all your fault,» sorry, unbroken
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| I’m among the living
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| Procession has arrived
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| Pointing their fingers, shaming their young
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| Smell the hate, all that I stand for
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| Feel the sores open like hell’s doors
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| Feel the fear
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| As the hand comes down
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| As I wait to be baptized
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| By the son of Salome |