Now its time to wrap our fears in the night
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And on the first day we'll dress this city in flames
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After all the things you say
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You hate me for being this way
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Still you won't let go of old ideals
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There is no headline to read at night
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When the record skips and you're not holding the needle
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We all sing the songs of separation
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And we watch our lives bleed out through our hands
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That's how it was on the first day
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We saw Paris in Flames
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I think it's going to rain, rain down
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Here in this collapsed lung of a borough
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There is no sunlight
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The sunlight is manufactured in a windowless room
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Distant and incoherent
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Businessmen hang themselves
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The lower cast side is a jukebox playing the deadman's crescendo
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The needle is a vector
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An intersection that we all must cross
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A dimly lit hallway where shadows of moths decorate the walls
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Discard this message
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Burn this city down
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Discard this message
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Throw this bottle back in the ocean
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Rip this page from the history books
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Smash all the street signs
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Erase all the maps
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Forget my name
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Forget my face
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Because it's going to rain (it's going to rain)
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And it never ends
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Paris In Flames
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Thursday |