| Under the gaze of the eight elms,
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| A spectacle like you’ve never seen:
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| Spinning lights and faces,
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| Demon music and gypsy queens!
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| The glint of iron wheels!
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| The bodies spin in a clockwork dance!
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| Oh, the smell of flint and steel!
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| A wheel of fate, a game of chance!
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| How I pray just to get away,
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| To carry me anywhere.
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| Sometimes the angels punish us By answering our prayers,
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| By answering our prayers…
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| The face of naked evil
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| Turns a young boy’s blood to ice;
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| The daily confrontation;
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| Such a dangerous device.
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| The glint of iron wheels!
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| The bodies spin in a clockwork dance!
|
| Oh, the smell of flint and steel!
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| A wheel of fate, a game of chance!
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| Oh, shout toward the crowd;
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| Laughed elation ringing loud!
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| (Indistinguishable) marks in the hands of the innocent.
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| The angry crowd moves towards him with mal-intent.
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| How I pray just to get away,
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| To carry me anywhere.
|
| Sometimes the angels punish us By answering our prayers,
|
| By answering our prayers…
|
| The glint of iron wheels!
|
| The bodies spin in a clockwork dance!
|
| Oh, the smell of flint and steel!
|
| A wheel of fate, a game of chance! |