| They called me the man with the blood of Christ honesty
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| But tonight (Tonight we’ll sleep as killers)
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| I drink with heathens and our, our finest blasphemies
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| (As we break the cryptic, as we break the cryptic)
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| In wine there’s truth but in silence there’s surrender
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| A screaming for the silence in stunned suspicious terror
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| Built a temple in my life and used God to seal the pillars
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| After twenty years of fighting young heretics and killers
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| I watch my temple fall to pieces
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| at the first signs of oncoming weather
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| Fell to my knees like
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| Jesus in the cave,
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| Jesus in the cave,
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| Jesus in the cave,
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| I knew I would die but my lips could only say;
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| I’m not your son, so why have you forsaken me?
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| There’s a hole in my heart but it just makes me unholy
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| Crucified that night and I walked away with alter-egos
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| Like the prison priest who preaches his dead and buried gospel
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| With my faith in ruins my duty still breathes strong
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| I’m a parrot in a cage just singing prayers to belong
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| to a textbook of my crying, lying, dying history;
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| a textbook of my crying, lying, dying history
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| a textbook of my crying
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| a textbook of my lying
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| a textbook of my dying
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| a textbook of my history |