| Why do you torture me so?
 | 
| You sit across the table with both eyes closed
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| You speak in myth and fable, and stand unopposed
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| The animal bones reveal themselves from deep within your mane
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| They reach for ethereal light
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| The ancient spears rise from her shoulders and riddle your frame
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| Marking the first time it was done right
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| And that’s not all that haunts me — the death by fire of a child
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| Who waits so patiently. | 
| And we are the ones
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| Who set the standard by which we are to be measured
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| Measured, measured!
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| Some things can never walk again cause sometimes a step is all too vile
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| The path of five innocent men who are only capable of walking one last mile
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| If I could live another day over again, I’d choose not to
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| The successes and failures of days passed are constant
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| The horizon promises days ahead
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| If you won’t quit, then I won’t
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| And this I swear to you tonight
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| Upon these former embers
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| You fanned until they were fire
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| We are nothing without the thousands of voices that make the choir
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| Nothing without the thousands of voices that make the choir
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| We are, we are, we are still life
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| (We are, we are, we are still life)
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| We are, we are, we are… still life
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| Begging and pleading, not dying, but bleeding out. | 
| (Still life, still life)
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| Begging and pleading, not dying, but bleeding out. | 
| (Still life, still life)
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| Oh, the chemical reaction, the chemical
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| Oh, the chemical reaction
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| When the walls fell, with arms wide |