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The still and silence is torn with violence. |
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A loud breaking sound in the night is made. |
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Hear it grow, hear it fade. |
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The sound you're hearing, the sound you're fearing |
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Is the hate that parades up and down our streets, coming within bounds and within reach. |
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Now, inside the place we hide away, we hear it near and hope it turns away. |
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Turn away... |
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There's something seething in the air we're breathing. |
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We learn slash and burn is the method to use. |
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Set a flame, burn it new. |
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We're overpowered. |
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We kneel, we cower, we cover our heads. |
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Feel the threat of blows that will come and the damage that will be done in its wake. |
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Now, inside this place we hide away, we hear it near although it's miles away. |
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We hear it near and hope it turns away. |
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Turn away... |
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This house divided, we live inside it. |
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Hate's dwelling place is behind our door in fitful nights. |
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Hear it walk the floor and hear it rave as it moans and drags along its ball and chain, |
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As it moves through this house it can't escape. |
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Now inside this place we hide away. |
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We hear it near and hope it turns away. |
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Turn away.... |