| We stand at the crossroads with holes in our hands
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| For all those crucified, forgotten fatherlands
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| I kissed your forehead, I kissed your lips
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| I dreamed of four girls for an apocalypse
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| But one day, someday, for you and me
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| An angel with talons will set us free
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| We drove through the mist, to a house by a lake
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| And waited in the garden for D’Annunzio to wake
|
| And we stand at the crossroads with holes in our hands
|
| For all those crucified, betrayed, lost motherlands
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| Behind the soft words of liars and fools
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| You’re either the ruler or you’re the ruled
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| The fuse has been lit, the sacrifice bled
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| And nature’s deciding we are more use to her dead
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| Chorus:
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| On the ledge of a cliff, hanging onto rosary beads
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| My wrists are aching and my fingers do bleed
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| Below me there’s flies and disease
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| But above me the light and the breeze
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| And we stand at the crossroads with holes in our hands
|
| For all those brutalized, genocide, paranoid lands
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| They’re cutting up corpses, putting them into sacks
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| And blood in the moonlight looks ever so black
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| You pick wild flowers, dream of love and respect
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| In this world of the noose, the knife and the rack
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| Chorus |