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Ooh, there's no bread, let them eat cake |
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There's no end to what they'll take |
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Flaunt the fruits of noble birth |
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Wash the salt into the earth |
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But they're marching to Bastille Day |
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La guillotine will claim her bloody prize |
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Free the dungeons of the innocent |
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The king will kneel, and let his kingdom rise |
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Ooh, bloodstained velvet, dirty lace |
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Naked fear on every face |
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See them bow their heads to die |
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As we would bow as they rode by |
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And we're marching to Bastille Day |
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La guillotine will claim her bloody prize |
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Sing, o choirs of cacophony |
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The king has kneeled, to let his kingdom rise |
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Lessons taught, but never learned |
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All around us, anger burns |
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Guide the future by the past |
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Long ago, the mould was cast |
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For they marched up to Bastille Day |
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La guillotine claimed her bloody prize |
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Hear the echoes of the centuries |
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Power isn't all that money buys, whoa |