| Hurrah i awake from yesterday
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| alive but the war is here to stay
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| so my love catherina and me
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| decide to take our last walk
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| through the noise to the sea
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| not to die but to be re-born
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| away from a life so battered and torn…
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| forever…
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| oh say can you see its really such a mess
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| every inch of earth is a fighting nest
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| giant pencil and lip-stick tube shaped things
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| continue to rain and cause screaming pain
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| and the arctic stains
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| from silver blue to bloody red
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| as our feet find the sand
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| and the sea is strait ahead.
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| strait ahead…
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| well its too bad
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| that our friends
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| cant be with us today
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| well thats too bad
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| «the machine
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| that we built
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| would never save us»
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| thats what they say
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| (thats why they aint coming with us today)
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| and they also said
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| «its impossible for man
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| to live and breath underwater.
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| forever"was their main complaint
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| (yeah)
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| and they also threw this in my face:
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| they said
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| anyway
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| you know good well
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| it would be beyond the will of God
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| and the grace of the King
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| (grace of the King yeah yeah)
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| so my darling and I
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| make love in the sand
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| to salute the last moment
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| ever on dry land
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| our machine has done its work
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| played its part well
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| without a scratch on our bodies
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| and we bid it farewell
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| starfish and giant foams
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| greet us with a smile
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| before our heads go under
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| we take a last look
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| at the killing noise
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| of the out of style…
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| the out of style, out of style |