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The Animals |
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Miscellaneous |
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The Black Plague |
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ohohohohoh |
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(gregorian chants) |
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the bell tolls |
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the black plague has struck |
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diseased eyes roll upwards |
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as if knowing which direction their souls will travel |
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(bring out your dead) |
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a woman in black cries |
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as the deathly procession passes by |
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and monks moan en masse |
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ohohohohohoh |
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(gregorian chants) |
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the yet clean peasant pounds upon the castle door |
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for it is safer inside the walls |
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their knocking pounds a dull tone across the quiet, deserted courtyard |
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the bodies of unfortuates bloat in the hot sun outside the castle walls |
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and ones ignorant of all facts plunder the diseased corpses for remaining riches. |
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(bring out your dead) |
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and the bell tolls on |
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a man walks around the castle walls on the outside |
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the light from his lamp dancing shadows as he moves |
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he tends the sick |
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gives comfort to all he can for dying woman and crying man |
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but he feels it most for the children |
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(unclean) |
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tears glisten on his cheek |
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did man ever deserve this death? |
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and not all will die, just the poor |
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for the rich are inside the castle walls |
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and he knows he could be with them |
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and they laugh at this fool of a man |
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through the stone fortress windows |
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and the bell tolls on |
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(unclean) |
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and many deaths and many days later |
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many tears have been cry cried but in vain |
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for tears can never erase the pain of death |
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only time has that talent |
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his hands are now blistered but this man walks on |
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the only element of sanity that the people look to him for answers and he answers all |
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and the bell tolls on inside the castle wall |
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(bring out your dead) |
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the dead are now buried and the plague is at its end |
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life for the people flowers again |
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they breathe fresh air like they did once before |
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and there is not a sound from beyond the castle walls |
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the bell has stopped |
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and only silence is heard |
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and the peasants outside wonder what happened within |
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in their bones they feel something is wrong |
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the bell has been silent much too long |
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for many days not one soul has stirred from the stone fortress where the rich people live |
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no one came and no one went |
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fear can do many strange things |
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and even though water ran low |
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their mouths burnt and bellys caked dry |
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not one person put a foot outside |
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no one had that much courage |
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for they feared the peasants and their world outside |
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so they played it safe and didn't move |
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but one by one they perished and died |