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Within the walls of Eden Prison, |
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There is a mark upon a stone. |
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And in this place a life was written, |
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And there a stain was laid where I was born. |
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Now moving through the roots of trees |
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Deep may their fingers reach, |
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The substance of a mind that feeds, |
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The bodies of the living stones that lead, |
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Up to become the walls of Eden prison. |
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The supine wild beast upon the slab, |
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Would gladly rip the throat from God if only he could reach up to his white ass. |
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And I, |
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I am free and will never breathe again, |
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Within the greasy ochre walls of Eden prison. |
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The supine wild beast upon the slab, |
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Would gladly rip the throat from God if only he could reach up to his white ass, |
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and I, |
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I am free and will never breathe again, |
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within the greasy ochre walls of Eden Prison, |
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I am free, |
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I will begin again, |
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I am free, |
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I will begin again, |
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I am free of the chocking hold that began in Eden prison. |
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We are free! |
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We are free! |
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But the ships they sail a sea of glistening, |
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turning crimson, |
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They are carrying a cargo to unload at Eden Prison |