It's got nothing to do with luck, & it's got nothing to do with sin.
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You said, "God's got it in for you. You're fucked," but I don't believe in him.
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Standing underneath stars and satellites.
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The sky is not falling on my head tonight.
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I can see it out of the corner of my eye, but this time I've got a running start.
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"What a perfect match," I thought, "Your black eyes and my black heart."
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It's in my blood. No, not that tired cliche.
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For me it's literal, just check the hospital bill.
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It's in my heart. Filed under "left for dead," and sewn together with a needle and thread.
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It's in my head. History is fiction. God can't touch us now; we're out of his jurisdiction.
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We are invincible. We may bend, but we will not be broken. <i>[x3]
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Past Tense, Future Perfect
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Paint It Black |