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Shiny minstrels of worn out time |
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look down upon you and me |
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sing their praise of a time long gone |
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when freedom meant more than life |
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Kings would hold on to all Gods given |
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the swords and armour bright |
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Ground would shake below his feet |
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the day of the freedom call |
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And it's all in the way that every king must fall |
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And it's all in the way all good men must go |
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King is afraid to lose the grip |
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he's tired and not so well |
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He'll walk all night on shaky ground |
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and dine with the dogs of hell. |
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A single whisper will crack the wall |
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a song is a wrecking ball |
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Lost in the vortex of friend and foe |
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a solitaire in his home |
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And it's all in the way that every king must fall |
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and it's all in the way all good men must go |