| We are too old to cry, too young to die
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| We’re bound to the promise of better lives
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| We’re bought and sold, content to know
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| That we’ll never have to fight if we do what we’re told
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| We are warrior sons but we run from a cause
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| That brings freedom and purpose and hope to us all
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| We would rather be a product of the world and its whims
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| Than have the world be a product of the force of our wills
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| RISE. |
| And at the sound of our standing the earth will groan
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| RISE. |
| And we will break their backs
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| And we will stretch for days and miles and years
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| Pulled across the fabric of our hopes and fears
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| We’ll pay the price, the sacrifice
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| Rebels and angels, a storm of white light
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| Earth shakers, life takers
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| Passion and purpose makes men of us all
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| The slow rotting, the cancerous fear
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| The corruption, we put a stop to it here
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| Brothers in arms to me!
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| RISE. |
| And at the sound of our standing the earth will groan
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| RISE. |
| And we will break their backs with the weight of our will
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| Give us insurrection
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| Give us something to say
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| Give us thirst for vengeance
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| And we will break their backs with the weight of our will |