Picture a bright blue ball just spinning, spinning free
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Dizzy with eternity.
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Paint it with a skin of sky, brush in some clouds and sea
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Call it home for you and me.
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A peaceful place or so it looks from space
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A closer look reveals the human race.
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Full of hope, full of grace, is the human face.
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But afraid, we may our home to waste.
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There's a fear down here we can't forget hasn't got a name just yet
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Always awake, always around singing ashes to ashes all fall down.
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Now watch as the ball revolves and the nighttime calls
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And again the hunt begins and again the bloodwind calls
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By and by again, the morning sun will rise
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But the darkness never goes from some men's eyes.
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It strolls the sidewalks and it rolls the streets
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Stalking turf, dividing up meat.
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Nightmare spook, piece of heat, you and me, you and me.
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Click, flashblade in ghetto night. Rudies looking for a fight.
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Rat cat alley roll them bones. Need that cash to feed that jones
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And the politicians throwing stones
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Singing ashes, ashes all fall down.
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Commissars and pin-striped bosses role the dice
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Any way they fall guess who gets to pay the price.
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Money green or proletarian gray, selling guns instead of food today.
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So the kids they dance, they shake their bones
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While the politicians throwing stones
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Singing ashes, ashes all fall down.
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Heartless powers try to tell us what to think
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If the spirit's sleeping, then the flesh is ink.
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History's page, it is thusly carved in stone
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The future's here, we are it, we are on our own.
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If the game is lost then we're all the same
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No one left to place or take the blame.
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We will leave this place an empty stone
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Or this shinning ball of bule we can call our home
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So the kids they dance, they shake their bones
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While the politicians are throwing stones
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Singing ashes, ashes all fall down.
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Shipping powders back and forth
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Singing "black goes south while white comes north"
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And the whole world full of petty wars
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Singing "I got mine and you got yours."
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And the current fashions set the pace.
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Lose your step, fall out of grace.
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And the radical he rant and rage, Singing "someone got to turn the page"
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And the rich man in his summer home,
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Singing "Just leave well enough alone"
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But his pants are down, his cover's blown
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And the politicians are throwing stones
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So the kids they dance they shake their bones
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Cause its all too clear we're on our own
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Picture a bright blue ball just spinning, spinning free
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It's dizzying, the possibilities. Ashes, Ashes all fall down.
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Throwing Stones
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Grateful Dead |