| On the edge of the river, the mighty Mississippi
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| Two boys spent their summers on the banks of the levy
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| When the waters burst and broke the dam
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| They were swallowed in a wave of sand
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| They pulled the younger one out by the hand—
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| (from) standing on his brother’s shoulders
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| One nation under God, young and proud she stumbled
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| With a trail of tears left by those who were outnumbered
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| She said, «This land is your land, this land is mine, unless you are an Indian»
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| But a higher ground we have tried to find—
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| Standing on their shoulders
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| Age after age
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| Of heroes and soldiers
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| It gives me sight and makes me brave
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| Standing on their shoulders
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| One man in the shadow of the white-washed cathedrals
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| Weighed down by the system through the eye of the needle
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| To his conscience bound he would not recant for the freedom of the Saints
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| And truth is truth is truth
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| And we are standing on his shoulders
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| To the ones left behind who are picking up the pieces
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| Of planes, bombs, and buildings of innocence and evil
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| 'Cause when the news and noise and flowers die
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| And you still wake up alone
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| There is a God who knows every tear you cry
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| And this world is on his shoulders
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| Age after age
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| Of all the heroes and the soldiers
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| So why am I so slow to change
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| When I am standing on their shoulders?
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| Age after age
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| Of (all the) heroes and soldiers
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| God, give me sight and make me brave…
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| As I am standing on their shoulders |