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That burning feeling |
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Red liquids, clear liquids |
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Blessed are the sick |
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Children shiver in the river |
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Where is our |
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God now?Does he watch over all in |
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El Segundo? |
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He don't lie when he say under |
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I'm wasting away |
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I find time to pine |
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When pining away my time |
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Within sin |
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With no redemption |
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We will find our souls |
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And the shells they're kept in |
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All wasted away |
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Blessed are the sick in me |
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The prey, the thrill, the chill and we |
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Are martyrs that crumble on time |
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Predestination |
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We'll stop upon dimes |
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And he'd constructed us all in |
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El Segundo |
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As the shivering children pray |
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Demons in, demons out |
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Cry for dawn, gratis bored |
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I'm the matador of the children's ward |
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Beggars wed choosers |
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Red sheets, bed sheets |
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BoozersI'm the head fan |
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Blessed be my bed pan |
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It's a cold, having just been mugged feeling |
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In the sun, |
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I've got this for you |
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It's under my finger nails |
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I brought this for you |
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It's typically |
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SundayI'm digging a hole |
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I'll shut out the world |
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This is what its like to be alone |
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This is what its like to be alone |