| Stand, stand your ground
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| Form a chain, hand to hand
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| Start again, turn the page
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| We’ll rebuild again
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| Although it broke our hearts
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| It did not break our will
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| We look for signs of life
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| We call your name
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| The chair that he leans against
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| One of many in a home that’ll be condemned
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| Barely holds him up, he gotta hold it in
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| He can begin to survey the mess but it’s so immense
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| The morning after the day the laughter died
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| With the ground beneath him cast aside
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| It looks like right after the bomb had hit
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| As if the house had found hell and cornered it
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| The human is the hardest part to factor in
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| Like how will they react when it comes crashing in
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| With a mad monk’s grin or be compassionate
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| Hoard what they got or will they try to ration it
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| It’s just a patter of patience, we’re back to basics
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| How the moment left your heart racing
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| Hoping that the worst was over, blown outta proportion
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| News reader got it wrong, issued a false caution
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| But if it all comes true, what will I do?
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| The whole world cut off from my neighborhood
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| And strangers will react just the same as me
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| Probably meet us in the street to survey the scene
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| These times will remind us, of the ties that bind us
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| And everyone we haven’t met yet, or it’s hollow trust
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| Ie. |
| all of us, or we’re all dust
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| I, ie. |
| all of us |