| Hey now my red clouds’re rolling in
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| To catalogue and number every stone cold dream
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| And I’ve seen Sal thumbing his way up to the stars
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| I’ve seen angels in the shooting galleries and heroes in the bars
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| I’ve seen a death warrant out on the moon
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| I saw what happened when the prophet spoke too soon
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| And I heard the radio sneeze into the evening
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| And all the bat-squeak singers selling fake hope to the sleeping
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| I’ve seen the cover up of cold hard facts
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| And they’re burning acid holes in the magazine racks
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| And I saw Jenny have a baby in the street
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| Where they’re playing blind mans bluff between the dying and the concrete
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| I’ve seen a paper corpse holing up a doorway
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| I heard the lonely voices singing «yeah, I did it your way»
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| And I held the future up to a looking glass
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| It bears a striking resemblance to the embers of the past
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| I’ve seen the chorus-girls, the ribbons and the rot
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| Seen electoral debates on the steel-rim of a whiskey shot
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| And I caught the glimmer in a hurricane’s eye
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| I’ve seen these AK-47s with their noses to the sky
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| And I smelled the ghosts of the ashes and the orchids
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| I’ve got promises tattooed to the insides of my eyelids
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| And I’ll be watching when the Richter reaches 10
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| I bled by these weapons, babe, and now I’m one of them |