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The warden stands tall as he walks down the hall |
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Puts all our lives on the shelf |
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Holding the keys to our miseries |
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How does he live with himself? |
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How does the warden sleep at night |
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After the long day's through? |
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Does he toss and turn, does his conscience burn? |
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Is he a prisoner too? |
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Down in this pen full of sorrow and sin |
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Do the days weigh on his chest? |
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When the warden goes home |
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To his house made of stone |
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How does he get any rest? |
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How does the warden sleep at night |
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After the long day's through? |
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Does he toss and turn, does his conscience burn? |
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Is he a prisoner too? |
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Oh warden, hey warden |
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Are you so different than me? |
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Hey warden, warden |
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What does it mean to be free? |
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I look through the bars to look at the stars |
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And we're all the same so it seems |
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And just like me I wonder if he |
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Can ever find peace in his dreams |
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How does the warden sleep at night |
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After the long day's through? |
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Does he toss and turn, does his conscience burn? |
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Is he a prisoner too? |
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Are you a prisoner too? |