| people are coming to take me out of my house
|
| don’t understand the angryness of the crowd
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| bursting windows raining down the floor
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| don’t realize what they are reaching for
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| GET OUT!
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| running, falling, slavering hands on my shirt
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| again and again they punch my face into the dirt
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| I lost my last hope when they started to beat
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| I’ll never get myself out of this heat
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| WHAT FOR SHALL I DIE?
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| now they tighten the rope around my neck
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| a kick, the chair falls down, my heart attacks
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| no breath, no life, am I going to die?
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| what have I done, I don’t know why?
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| they say that you have cought him,
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| they say he’s punished now
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| they say that none should mess with you,
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| you infallible crowd
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| be proud of what you’ve done
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| for your selfrighteous sense of justice
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| the beast is dead, this is the end,
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| an act of fair revenge
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| but didn’t you know that not just far away
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| another little girl was raped today?
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| and didn’t you hear 'bout the man sitting in jail
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| that he has confessed this last two murders?
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| GET OUT… |