| I found you on two burning sticks
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| In a Roman picnic, you used to get laughed at because you defended the misfits
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| You taught me the difference between passion and gimmicks
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| Why is there blood on your ankles?
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| Why are there, stickers in your scalp?
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| Why do you abandon the angels?
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| Why aren’t demons your friends?
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| I brushed the comments off your back
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| You moved a comet from my path
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| I said it’ll be okay, you said it is
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| I showed you the shackles, you said there’s nothing on my wrist
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| I cried for myself, you smiled for us
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| Not all lepers are blind
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| You weren’t afraid to touch or call you mine
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| This is hell and that is heaven
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| They ask how it feels to be an emcee
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| An old friend called me up and said you still doing this for free?
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| I said they don’t pay you to speak the truth
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| I’ll be doing this till they lay me to rest
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| I hung up the phone and said god bless
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| Welcome to the shepherd’s den where FBI can blend right in
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| Third eye open will the other two sleep
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| I look out my window and count the sheep
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| So let the ears all listen when the shepherd speaks
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| This is hell and that is heaven |