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SWEAT HOUSE
Little black holes buried of side streets Little people sweat blood for the wealthy Glory be ashamed your dripping sheets
Innocent faces burnt out before eleven Crying shadows to weak to argue God forgive your greed if you ever get to heaven
Neither beautiful today or tomorrows sky Chilling to rob a child’s childhood years In his kingdom we must ask ourselves why
Timid bright eyes put down by the side Little angels churning out the wears We can all run but we can never hide |
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Copyright Cameron McIntyre
2003 |
