| You are, we are
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| The vision of truth
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| Can you hear me?
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| Hear my cadence call all through the night
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| We’re putting it out there for you
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| The victim, the hunter, the shrew
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| We have become
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| The destruction of masses
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| The parade of ashes
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| For the cause, for the case, for the coup
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| Be free, our own paradise
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| Live free, these are our homes our lives
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| I will grip my tongue and we will say it so fruitful
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| Surrender to the gun
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| We’ll empower the hopeful
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| And plead to the rising Sun
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| We’re singing the anthem of youth
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| The outcast, the lover, the truth
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| Don’t lose sight of
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| The production of power
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| The angle, its hour
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| For the blood, for the pain, for the noose
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| Freedom is the truth
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| Be free, our own paradise
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| Live free, these are our homes our lives
|
| Hear my heart, now now let’s ride the blues
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| Look into my head, now kick off your shoes
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| Every lick and step that keeps me awake
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| We’re on our own so let’s move
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| We see with our hearts and third eyes
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| You know there’s nothing like a moment we all fantasize
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| Like a lick, like a shred, like a pattern of threads
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| And if these holy notes only stand alone then we’re better off dead
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| I’m tearing my eyes out again and again
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| I’m throwing my soul out, three sheets to the wind
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| This quandary in my life, I don’t give a shit
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| The futile possess so that we plead the fifth
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| We’re all alone, we’re red throughout
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| Now break these bones, I’ll twist and shout
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| We’re out for the kill
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| With the thoughts of the truest of minds
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| Construct, create, conflate
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| Medicate, meditate, contrive
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| Be free, our own paradise
|
| Live free, these are our homes our lives
|
| The production of power
|
| The angle, it’s hour
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| You will always be
|
| The victim, the hunter, the shrew
|
| I’m tearing my eyes out again and again
|
| I’m throwing my soul out, three sheets to the wind
|
| This quandary in my life, I don’t give a shit
|
| The futile possess so that we plead the fifth |