| This is no complaint — You either retreat to the rear
|
| Where you watch still in fear — Cut off from choice
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| Or you voice your anger
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| Outside defenseless behind the fences
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| Braving the fumes — The noble one resumes the fight
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| Though still in flight
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| And you nourish little patches of ground
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| And put no fences around
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| To gather things towards you
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| And if only for me, please, hold your fire
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| And hide your fires at night
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| And if only for me, please — Sink your crowns now
|
| And drown your bells inside of me
|
| So gather around — around
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| Look inside — to be found
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| So gather around — around
|
| Look inside — to be found
|
| Now keep the rage and lose the rest
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| Hold on and give it your best shot — And do it now
|
| Your hesitant songs, your fearful songs
|
| Will not put them to the test — anyhow
|
| And if only for me, please, hold your fire
|
| And hide your fires at night
|
| And if only for me, please
|
| Sink your crowns now
|
| And drown your bells inside of me
|
| So gather around — around
|
| Look inside — to be found
|
| So gather around — around
|
| Look inside — to be found
|
| Oh, I never thought I’d see it — But you belong to me
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| Like the shame to the retreat
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| Oh, I never thought I’d see it
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| But you fill yourself indeed
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| With what you destroy in me
|
| So gather around — around
|
| Look inside — to be found
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| D’abord — il y avait la colere — Et puis
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| Il y avait notre promesse — De ne pas perdre le feu
|
| De vivre debout — et en movement |