| In the cold stone walls
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| House where the bleeding did fall
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| The mother, is crying, outside
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| In the darkest of hours
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| Left with the peril less thoughts
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| His circle, squeezed right, hurt soul
|
| She said:
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| «Ohh, I’m a lose my baby»
|
| «Ohh, I’m a lose my way»
|
| «An, let there be something here»
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| Come hurry, and resur. |
| rect me
|
| When the sun goes down
|
| Into another light source
|
| Baby’s, miss given, just glimpse
|
| Then a neon cross shines
|
| Shows us to tread on the light
|
| Guilt trips, or love grips, look blind
|
| I said:
|
| «Lord, I’m a lose my baby»
|
| «Lord, I’m a lose my way»
|
| «An, pushing me I’m stuck here»
|
| Come hurry, and resur. |
| rect me
|
| I’m a drown my head for I’m ready to stop
|
| I’m a drown my head for I’m ready to stop
|
| I’m a dig that grave for a ride for the drop
|
| For I’m ready to stop
|
| If I’m ready or not
|
| I’m a drown my head for I’m ready to stop
|
| I’m a drown my head for I’m ready to stop
|
| I’m a write my time before they through out the clock
|
| Charging work by the hour
|
| Or making pay for the drop
|
| I said:
|
| «Lord, we gonna lose our heads here»
|
| «Lord, we gonna lose our pain»
|
| I’m a dig that grave
|
| I’m a dig that grave
|
| Baby through there soon, hang the books out to lose
|
| Write the devils resurrection of the things we believe
|
| I’m a dig that grave |