| Few gray hanging ropes are noticed at dusk
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| Visit the young hot irises in their bubbly loop
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| Only the cousins of the trees from their fur are allowed to enlighten the killer
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| When the unbelievers in darkness are racing in terror
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| The cousins of the trees, the sisters, the children, the brothers of the soul!
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| Advertisers on the horizon, brothers of the soul!
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| And this is what I taste, this is what I feel
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| And I still believe, I sense this, I hear the smell!
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| I am a graveyard picture, wild roses sprouting from the temples
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| From the top of the mountain, the song echoes through the gray Frederik
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| The feet of the soil fall apart, the father loves his child
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| Children of trees, eaters of plastic, brothers of the soul!
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| In steel, in asphalt, brothers of the soul!
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| The cousins of the trees, the sister children, the brothers of the soul!
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| Many views, one for all, brothers of the soul!
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| And this I taste, brethren of the soul!
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| And, and this I know, brethren of the soul.
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| And, and, I still believe, brethren of the soul!
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| And, and, and this I taste, brethren of the soul!
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| And, and, and, and this I know, brethren of the soul!
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| And I still believe, brethren of the soul!
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| Soul Brothers!  | 
| Soul Brothers!
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| Soul Brothers!  | 
| Soul Brothers! |