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I heard he dabbled into |
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witchcraft, I heard occult |
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Oh, they're pretty much the same |
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I guess he was adopted, or raised by wolves |
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That's ridiculous to say |
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I heard he boiled over, cursed the town |
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Had the touch, so nothing grew |
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I heard that too, it's true |
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That's a lie |
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I heard he spoke in tongues, gone crazy |
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I heard he was a refugee |
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I heard he was a monster, a scary ghost |
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Oh you know there's no such thing |
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I heard he boiled over, cursed the town |
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Had the touch, so nothing grew |
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I heard that too, it's true |
|
That's a lie |
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We're left with some stories inert |
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But this is the part that will hurt |
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And nobody learned |
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And now nothing grows here |
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Always a shy, unremarkable man |
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Then one day he'd had it, and threw up his hands |
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He filled up his lungs, and he pulled at his hair |
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And he curled up his lips and he bellowed |
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"You'll never know how sorry you'll be" |
|
I heard he dabbled into |
|
witchcraft, I heard occult |
|
Oh, they're pretty much the same |
|
I guess he was adopted, or raised by wolves |
|
That's ridiculous to say |
|
I heard he boiled over, cursed the town |
|
Had the touch, so nothing grew |
|
I heard that too, it's true |
|
That's a lie |
|
We're left with some stories inert |
|
But this is the part that will hurt |
|
And nobody learned |
|
And now nothing grows |
|
Always a shy, unremarkable man |
|
Then one day he'd had it, and threw up his hands |
|
He filled up his lungs and he pulled in his hair |
|
And he curled up his lips and he bellowed |
|
"You'll never know how sorry you'll be" |
|
The looks on their faces |
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You'd swear they were dead |
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It finally sunk in to their bones what he said |
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Thes seeds will be bitter, the harvest will crumble |
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Your fields will lay fallow for years |
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And nothing will grow |
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People will speak of him once in a while |
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as legend would have it you'll hear it for miles |
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he'll curse up a blue streak add lead to the air |
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and stink like all matter of things |
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And nothing will grow |