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The Republic Of Wolves
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Tuez le tous, Dieu reconnaitra les siens
So we played our games in the dug-out graves Shouting curses at the dirt 'til the Messiah showed his face, With his soap-stone eyes and his seaweed beard and he scolded us so sharply with his winding river tongue. It was not my place to be calling names 'Cause I was the oil-spitting acid-tripping dog
'I would like to see you at your worst' What's your worst?
So you'll sleepwalk home in a sick moon's glow Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com Just a lonely set of bones beside a lonely service road You will crack your skull like a rotting hull just to picture all the good you could've done yourself by picking from the tree.
So I read the psalms off your painted palms and they drew a darker picture than our father would've liked. It is not your place to be digging graves Should have learned from my mistakes and left it up to fate.
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