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We rise and fall in revolts ill-planned and doomed |
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Tired of inventing ruses |
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To be more than a name on some tomb |
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We could not refuse it |
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But you fearful, slavish souls |
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You're hiding behind moat walls |
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You dagger, you noose |
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Clinched to desks, nailed to benches, tied to counters |
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While all around us hell is breaking loose |
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Are we to pine forever on this raging sea, as mercenaries? |
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Are we to pine forever on this raging sea, in the merchant fleet? |
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We rise and fall like the winter wheat |
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With yellow eyes of grain |
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Not knowing what worlds are confused |
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With the one we name |
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You fearful, devilish souls |
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Hiding behind moat walls |
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Doing time, clinched to desks |
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Nailed to benches, tied to counters |
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While the men around us are no less torn |
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Are we to pine forever on this raging sea, as mercenaries? |
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Are we to pine forever on this raging sea, in the merchant fleet? |