The lion isn't sacred when not sleeping near the lamb,
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it is evil when it eats unless it's feeding from the damned,
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all the children painted diagrams of god upon their hands,
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hoping somewhere on this shaking earth they could find a place to stand.
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it's a tyrant to the foreigners who've never seen the land,
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they feel safer than a statue when they've got a spear in hand,
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it is pregnant with the fury that the pain in life demands.
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yes, it's fear--but it's a fear that understands.
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and what's left is a heartbeat, speaking,
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"hands off your fate, child, you'll bury yourself in mistakes."
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like a dream that i had of lost faith it fades away but still thunders onward.
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every pulse was a hand with its palm up,
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fed with bodies and bread soaked in blood.
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somewhere, someday, it'll leave but tell me, someone,
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where does it go?
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what tied our hands tight to the train tracks, then backed off slowly?
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what does the heart say? "see the reverse. there's an answer there."
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i am the moth-drenched love of dead mules,
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as stable as sand in a windstorm. and i shake like a spider in the rain
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when you say,
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"my, my, the ways i've changed since then--the ways i've changed."
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and all i ever say is,
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"i'm..."
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and it hits like a brick to the back of your head. like, goodbye, five times.
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one for each finger.
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and you say,
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"my, my, the ways i've changed since then--the ways i've changed."
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and all i ever say is,
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"i'm tired."
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we turned our water into whining, shouting, "let us be like christ."
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but then the whining turned to wonder, and the wonder turned to ice.
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once, we were graceful steeples, hands held upward and eyes wide in suspense.
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now, we are tangled like intruders in the wires of the fence.
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for a fence is built to protect what lies inside of it.
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do you still feel sick? because i do.
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-----------------
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Shall Never Lose Its Power
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La Dispute |