| If I were a bear, I’d be the greatest of all,
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| With a speech like god so dark and foreboding.
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| Standing up tall from the top of that hill,
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| I’d growl up your fears from down below.
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| They’re restless spinning around,
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| Twisting hungry spitting tongues are restless
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| In the form of the god that’s speaking out…
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| Speaking out, speaking out…
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| Laying bricks, growing walls, clicking stone
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| And the sound that’s awful in our ears,
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| Forcing sprouts and speaking out…
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| Speaking out, speaking out…
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| Speaking out.
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| Like a carpenter,
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| Like these weathermen,
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| Like my brother,
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| These hands they never sleep.
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| Like the foundation,
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| Like the frames that meet,
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| Like these builders.
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| These hands they never sleep.
|
| Like a carpenter,
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| Like these weathermen,
|
| Like my brother,
|
| These hands they never sleep.
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| If I were a god I’d be the greatest of all,
|
| With a speech so soft that loud it would kill you.
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| Standing up tall from the top of that hill,
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| I’d shout out commands to down below.
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| They are restless tangled mess protests burned
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| And ears that bleed in rivers through the pipes
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| That heat your homes and families' plates.
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| Speaking out…
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| Like a carpenter,
|
| Like these weathermen,
|
| Like my brother,
|
| These hands they never sleep.
|
| Like the foundation,
|
| Like the frames that meet,
|
| Like these builders.
|
| These hands they never sleep.
|
| Like a carpenter,
|
| Like these weathermen,
|
| Like my brother,
|
| These hands they never sleep.
|
| Like the foundation,
|
| Like the frames that meet,
|
| Like these builders.
|
| These hands they never sleep.
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| These hands they never sleep. |