| In the city streets where I was born
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| People bowed their heads from dusk till dawn
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| Never realized the potential of their lives
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| Till the reaper came to cut the corn
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| Some were born to live a life of ease, never knowing suffering or disease
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| Till that final day when judgment comes their way, then they fall down on their
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| knees and pray
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| This train won’t stop … Till we reach the end of the line
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| In the golden fields of yesterday where the children used to laugh and play
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| You can hear the sound of hammer breaking steel
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| When you take more than you give it never heals
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| I can see it rolling 'cross the sky on the holy mountains where eagles cry
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| Far from earth below where poisoned rivers flow where I’m free to let my soul
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| and spirit fly
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| This train won’t stop … Till we reach the end of the line
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| And will the road find it, and will the soul guide you down
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| When will we really see that higher love, when we reach the end of our lives
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| This train won’t stop … Till we reach the end of the line
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| See the reaper in the field, time to get your spirit healed
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| Now the doors are open wide, there’s no place that you can hide
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| Tell your children |