| Well I can accept that you have your faith
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| So you must accept that I have none
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| You chase your god into your grave
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| I’ll die alone when my days are done
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| All these fabulous beasts that you strike down
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| All this beautiful land that you claim to command
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| And all these wars in the name of a book
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| There’s god in your heart but there’s blood on your hands
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| So where are you fires of hell
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| So where now your golden gates
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| I see no angels, no heaven on high
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| I hear no marching of your saints
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| Go placidly amongst the noise and haste
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| Well, I know your churches are a sight to behold
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| And I know your stories as good as any man
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| I know we all have our crosses to bear
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| But I? |
| ll waste none of my time in desperate prayer
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| I’ve rung the bells of the Mont St-Michel
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| But me and the saviour were never that close
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| I’ve called into the night with no hope of reply
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| But I? |
| ve seen the holes in the holy ghost
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| So where now, your peace to all men
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| So where now, your undeniable proof
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| Where is it written, in paper or stone
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| An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth |