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With the threat of hell hanging over my head like a halo, |
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I was made to believe in a couple of beautiful truths |
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that eventually had the effect of completely unravelling |
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the powerful curse put on me by you. |
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When you set the table, when you chose the scale, |
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Did you write a riddle that you knew they would fail? |
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Did you make them tremble so they would tell the tale? |
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Did you push us when we fell? |
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If my mother cries when I tell her what I have discovered, |
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then I hope she remembers she taught me to follow my heart. |
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And if you bully her like you've done me with fear of damnation, |
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Well then I hope she can see you for what you are. (Yea...all right) |
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When you set the table, when you chose the scale, |
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Did you write a riddle that you knew they would fail? |
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Did you make them tremble so they would tell the tale? |
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Did you push us when we fell? |
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What am I afraid of? Whom did I betray? |
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In what medieval kingdom does just work this way? |
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If you knew what would happen, and made us just the same, |
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Then you my Lord can take the blame. |
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(Do you wanna stop short like that?) |