I steal from the beggers empty plate.
And give to the fat man.
I dance in the halls of the newly insane.
And pray to a god that is vacant again.
Dark is the shadow filled with predjudice, not pride.
Worn out, unwelcome, his truth birthing lies.
A whisper now speaks what words used to say, fallen from grace, luster this way.
Burning bridges light my way.
Burning bridges light my way.
Burning bridges light my way.
And while the rain keeps coming down.
A rope of hopes too thin to climb.
The night is closing in.
We're down the bottom of the well.
Burning bridges light my way.
Burning bridges light my way.
Burning bridges light my way.
Burning bridges light my way.
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