| Uh, elegant is the silence
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| Eloquent is the choice of benevolence over violence
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| We sat alone on that the third rock
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| This is after the world stopped
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| Just me and her, a pint a Jameson and her socks
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| And everybody famous by the third shot
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| Word blocks, slurped off some vicar
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| What happened to that promise, what happened to her god?
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| Is it the alpha or omega?
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| I remember childhood, begging for a Sega
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| I remember adulthood, begging for a leg up
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| Now we entered the void, devoid of any meaning
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| They try to peg us, a circle doesn’t fit into a square hole, Pythagoras
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| I’m the desert to Las Vegas, the beggar to all kings
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| Present in all places, killer of all things
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| We woke up in the desert with a hangover
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| Destruction of the peasant class and landowners
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| Riches can’t deliver you from evil
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| Death and all destruction been written in cathedrals
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| But cognitive dissonance of the people
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| Got people believing our differences don’t make us equal
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| But when you look into the heavens, a peasant or a reverend
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| We all asking the same questions
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| I found that little bit of Jameson
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| Hoping I could kill it, I don’t want to be awake again
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| She died in her sleep, with her eyes on the sheep
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| We held a secret that I couldn’t keep
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| I used to be that smart guy barfly
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| Pretty good at writing songs about the hard times
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| I was only happy during happy hour
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| But what’s an hour when you live after the flowers? |