| We never fear the night, we bring our own starlight
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| Dropped on the world below, wait for the afterglow
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| We never fear the night, we bring our own starlight
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| Dropped on the world below, wait for the afterglow
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| And in the dark they wed, we’re dancing with the dead
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| And if the ground’s been stained, colors run in the rain
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| Run away, no delay — do we have to show you?
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| Don’t expect mercy yet, we don’t even know you
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| Hear the press, nothing less — saying that we don’t care
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| Understand it’s the land and you’d have to be there
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| We never contemplate, we only offer fate
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| And in the night they arc, flowering in the dark
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| Filling the sky with red, till all their needs are fed
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| Then like the childhood tear they quickly disappear
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| Run away, no delay — do we have to show you?
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| Don’t expect mercy yet, we don’t even know you
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| Hear the press, nothing less — saying that we don’t care
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| Understand it’s the land and you’d have to be there
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| Run away, no delay — do we have to show you?
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| Don’t expect mercy yet, we don’t even know you
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| Hear the press, nothing less — saying that we don’t care
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| Understand it’s the land and you’d have to be there
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| IN THE WORLD OF DEATH AND MURDER
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| THEY’RE THOSE WHO DO THE DEED
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| BUT WAITING IN THE SHADOWS
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| ARE THE MEN WHO SEWED THE SEEDS
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| THEY MAKE THEIR THIRTY-PIECES
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| SELLING GUNS TO ALL WHO PAY
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| AND WHEN BULLETS PIERCE THE FLESH
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| THEY ARE SAFELY FAR AWAY
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| AND BACK IN SARAJEVO
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| A GIRL STOOD INSIDE THE ROOM
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| LISTENING TO MEN CALLED MERCHANTS
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| OFFER GUNS TO FORESTALL DOOM
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| THEY SAID THEY CAME TO HELP
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| WHEN MUSLIMS PLIGHT THEY’D HEARD
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| BUT WHAT THEY HAD
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| SOMEHOW FAILED TO MENTION
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| WAS THEY SAID THE SAME THINGS
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| TO THE SERBS |