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The myriad choices of his fate |
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Set themselves out upon a plate |
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For him to choose |
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What had he to lose |
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Not a ghost bloodied country |
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All covered with sleep |
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Where the black angel did weep |
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Not an old city street in the east |
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Gone to choose |
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And wandering's brother |
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Walked on through the night |
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With his hair in his face |
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On a long splintered cut from the knife of G.T. |
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The rally man's patter ran on through the dawn |
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Until we said so long |
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To his skull-shrill yell |
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Shining brightly red-rimmed and |
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Red-lined with the time |
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Infused with the choice of the mind |
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On ice skates scraping chunks |
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From the bells |
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Cut mouth bleeding razor's |
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Forgetting the pain |
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Antiseptic remains cool goodbye |
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So you fly |
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To the cozy brown snow of the east |
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Gone to choose, choose again |
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Sacrificials remains make it hard to forget |
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Where you come from |
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The stools of your eyes |
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Serve to realize fame, choose again |
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And roverman's refrain of the sacrilege recluse |
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For the loss of a horse |
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Went the bowels and a tail of a rat |
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Come again, choose to go |
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And if Epiphany's terror reduced you to shame |
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Have your head bobbed and weaved |
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Choose a side to be on |
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If the stone glances off |
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Split didactics in two |
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Leave the colors of the mouse trails |
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Don't scream, try between |
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If you choose, if you choose, try to lose |
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For the loss of remain come and start |
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Start the game I che che che che I |
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Che che ka tak koh |
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Choose to choose |
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Choose to choose, choose to go |