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He rode in town on a white horse with nothing in his hands |
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He came to gather his people and take them to their promised land |
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When he came, he knew there would be bloodshed |
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But still no violence made his plans |
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He came to fight in a battle with no guns or money |
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But with his empty hands and with his empty hands |
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With his empty hands, with his empty hands |
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They said "Hey boy what you lookin' at" as they eyed his dreaded mane |
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He said "My father has sent me I've come back to reclaim" |
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The children whose hearts were so whole and pure |
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Now it's you who'll die in pain |
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So they lynched the man who fooled the word |
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And all the children gathered in his empty hands |
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In his empty hands, the children all came in his empty hands |
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In his empty hands, oh with his empty hands, in his empty hands |
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Oh with his empty hands, in his empty hands |
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He killed and made [Incomprehensible] in his empty hands |
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In his empty hands |
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Oh with his empty, his empty |
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Empty, empty hands |
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Oh with his empty hands |