| Whispered secrets in cloistered halls
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| Oaths of silence observed
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| Silent witnesses stare from the walls
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| Never saying a word
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| Years of suffering, torment and pain
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| Etched on faces of stone
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| Age of innocence, paradise lost
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| Never to be regained
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| Only heartbreak remains
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| Oh my, look at the lies as they fall from your mouth
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| I’m surprised they don’t stain you
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| And how do you justify them?
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| The blood on your hands marks you guilty as sin
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| And the circumstances excludes all doubt
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| Send their children along
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| Safe, secure in the arms of the one
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| Who will do them no harm
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| Who will do them no wrong
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| Oh my, look at the lies as they fall from your mouth
|
| I’m surprised they don’t stain you
|
| And how do you justify them?
|
| The blood on your hands marks you guilty as sin
|
| And the truth remains hidden for years
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| Shame and fear do their job
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| Lives in ruins but your standing remains
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| Until someone stands up
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| Now the victims have lifted the lid
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| And what was darkness is light
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| Suffer little children and by Christ they did
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| So long out of sight
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| Going out of their mind.
|
| Oh my, look at the lies as they fall from your mouth
|
| I’m surprised they don’t stain you
|
| And how do you justify them?
|
| The blood on your hands marks you guilty as sin
|
| Oh my, look at the lies as they fall from your mouth
|
| I’m surprised they don’t stain you
|
| And how do you justify them?
|
| The blood on your hands marks you guilty as sin |