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As madmen, some hung head down |
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From a long dead tree |
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Some discuss, all at once |
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For no one to hear |
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Variations on emptiness |
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Great themes on vain glory |
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And as some go feral in strange performances |
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Dressing customs that are metaphors |
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Of your disease |
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Hungry eyes are looking for me... |
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Mephisto: |
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Laughing, I feed you |
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With meaningless games, tricks and philosophies |
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Whose answers you would die for |
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In your hunger to believe |
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How it does amuse me |
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And makes me wonder |
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For how long that it was mine |
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Because now it does really inflame me |
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As if ignorance was my secret desire... |
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Mephisto |
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I am an angel who dresses in red |
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Riding above you, etching fire rings |
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I have learned to fly |
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Don't you remember? |
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While you still have not come down |
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From your long-dead tree |
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I can teach you wonders if you give me your soul |
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Marvels and wild dreams can be yours |
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I can teach you how iron turns to gold |
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And how life can grow so old |
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But I am a demon who dresses in red |
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And I do not hope you will understand... |
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Mephisto |