| In this world, we have gone
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| Out on our own, all alone in stone
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| Looking for time that passes us by
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| You tired and old you may get left behind
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| In this world we hope to see
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| Invisible signs of our democracy so
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| Maybe somehow we all can say
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| That it’s worth the blood that we leave on the stage
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| For in this world we make a stand
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| For suffering minds of unknown lands
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| But the water balloon are 2 left feet
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| Can never rise above our political heat
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| For in this world we voice and
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| It’s lout as hell if we have the choice
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| Don’t consume them best to fill your lives
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| Then we feed our kids what we leave behind
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| In this world we have to shake and
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| Man the hand that button breaks
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| If we hesitate we not forget
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| About the hard ticks written for last month’s rent, mhm
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| How in the hell can we progress
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| If we’re all out of work hooked on pills for stress
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| They tell us, up in heaven there is food for eat
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| But for now all we get is this shit on the street
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| For in this world we just can’t trust
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| And food stamps filling our bellies up
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| Homeless kids on forgotten roads
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| Let’s hope they can bear when the winter cold cause
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| The spark within the youngest eye
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| Can slowly fade with the whisper cry
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| So lend your heart and all you know
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| And relieve the pain so the good can grow
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| Relieve the pain so the good can grow |