| He was brilliant tonight
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| you can hear the packed arena roar
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| through screams and shouts no one could hear
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| his bones as they crashed onto the floor
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| He feels a broken as a man could be
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| half sleeping in a fucked van
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| and he doesn’t know the next stopover
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| on the journey of his life
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| But never, never, never
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| he throught of coming home again
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| and never, never, never
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| his mask will drop
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| Don’t call him ugly, he’s got sex appeal
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| don’t call him broken, he’s as hard as steel
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| don’t judge his strenght until we count to three (1−2-3)
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| don’t call him Dave, his name is Burning D
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| If he had been involved in creating
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| a man who can heat up the moon
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| he would have chosen golden bracelets
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| red short and flames along his boots
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| Are there any of the friends he used to have
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| watching him on pay per view
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| he doesn’t miss a thing he says
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| but to give his dad a call is long over due |