| You can burn me if you want
|
| To but I won’t feel a flame
|
| You can taunt me with your words
|
| But I won’t feel ashamed
|
| You can burn your crosses down
|
| Until the morning light
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| You can burn out my brown eyes
|
| But I won’t lose my sight
|
| You can cast at me the first stone
|
| I’ll cast it to the floor
|
| You can try to clip my wings
|
| Over mountains I will soar
|
| You can wear your white satin
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| Robes and I will wear my pride
|
| And to hold me back you might
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| As well hold back the morning tide
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| With your White Gown, handed down
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| Fills my heart with pain
|
| With your White Gown, handed down
|
| Fills you up with shame
|
| You can offer me resistance
|
| I will offer you my hand
|
| For a man who has lost his soul
|
| Is like the drifting sand
|
| You can strike me if you want to
|
| I won’t cause you any pain
|
| For as long as you don’t carry
|
| Scars I won’t carry blame
|
| You can burn me if you want
|
| To but I won’t feel a flame
|
| You can taunt me with your
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| Words but I won’t feel ashamed
|
| You can think of me as running
|
| Scared but run it from your mind
|
| I’ll stand and look you in the
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| Eye until the end of time |