| In the graveyards are families and friends
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| Staying for a while but eager to move on
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| Resting in vertical tombs that light up, light up
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| At Christmas they flicker
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| In while people come and go through guilt mainly, through guilt mainly
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| And we’re tribal in our vandalism
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| Our epitaphs in graffiti art
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| And we’re tribal in our vandalism
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| Our epitaphs in graffiti art
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| It scratches the cheeks and from the top it falls down
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| Our bald heads first we exit the womb
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| In the graveyards are families and friends
|
| Every curtain drawn, every curtain drawn
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| And we’re tribal in our vandalism
|
| Our epitaphs in graffiti art
|
| And we’re tribal in our vandalism
|
| Our epitaphs in graffiti art
|
| And we’re tribal in our vandalism
|
| Our epitaphs in graffiti art
|
| And we’re tribal in our vandalism
|
| Our epitaphs in graffiti art
|
| Where we once looked out now concrete stares |