| I used to dream in color and I wished away the days
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| Waiting on the slightest chance that I would get to play
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| A guilded harp, a silver horn with a bonny tune to sing
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| A place inside a golden hall to prance around the king
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| When I was young I wished to be
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| Up to my neck in a fantasy
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| Why did I sign on that bloody dotted line?
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| Let the devils hold it over me
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| Is it a crime to live when you cannot afford the means?
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| Is it a crime to walk the earth like ravenous machines?
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| Is there a way to bridge a gap across a great divide?
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| Is it a secret thrill to know the gods are on your side?
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| When I was young I wished to be
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| A landed man with a back forty
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| Why did I sign on that bloody dotted line?
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| Let the devils hold it over me
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| The smoke still clouds my wits
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| The stink still fills my pores
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| From the night they kicked down the door
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| The blood still stains my lips
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| The grief still chafes my soul
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| My pride was raked through the coals
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| Yonder prison walls
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| They own my flesh and bones
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| But my thoughts are mine alone |