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Well misery loves company |
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That's why we're thick as thieves |
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Let's move out to the country |
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And live just the way we please |
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We'll make ourselves a little home |
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A garden and a fire |
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Forget the shit we left behind |
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And follow our desires |
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We'll write a song and sing along |
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And sway unto the sound |
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And the chorus, it will go like this: |
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We Burned the |
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City Down |
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We Burned the |
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City Down |
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Yeah, We Burned the |
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City Down |
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Cause I believe the devil lives |
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In towers made of steel |
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With subway cars and crowded bars |
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That suck away the feel |
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Of cool grass underneath you feet |
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And sun that warms the skin |
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Our lives are made of shiny plastic, |
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Plexiglass and sin |
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Let's get out of this city |
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Out past every burgh in town |
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Someday we'll tell our children "Hey, we burned the city down" |
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We Burned the |
|
City Down |
|
Yeah, We Burned the |
|
City Down |
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Eventually the memories |
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Of our old lives will fade |
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No longer slaves to modern ways |
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No money to be made |
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We'll raise our children in our image |
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Only as they are |
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And teach them how to farm their way |
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And how to read the stars |
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And every night our family |
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Will make a joyful sound |
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And sing of that triumphant day |
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We Burned the |
|
City Down |
|
We Burned the |
|
City Down |
|
Yeah, We Burned the |
|
City Down |
|
We Burned the |
|
City Down |
|
Yeah, We Burned the |
|
City Down |