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The Believer

I woke up, it was morning, I had sunlight in my eyes
Nature all around me, and I could hear the wind crying
It was crying for a town called nowhere with the agony you crave
The wind won’t drag you from there if you dig your own grave

Yeah, and it’s hard, so hard, if you’re a believer
It’s hard, so hard

Streets and avenues, roads and towns, they all came to pass
Communities and families, shattered just like glass
Splintered values, lack of vision, souls in the lost and found
Yeah, this place is your place, you’ve got to stand your own ground

And every day you wake up with the trip that they lay on you
Television lifestyles, how could that be true?
But what about your birthright, and the dignity of labour?
Hey! You act like you’ve got no soul, like you were born to failure


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