Folk ballad.
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Oh the madams they’re all painted black, and the moon is shining down,
on the crevices on the streets and back to madams fallen gown.
Oh the moon could fall anytime at all, suspended like a frown,
But the reasons for these makeshift wars, no reason can be found.
The children they play, at the loss and betrayal like monsters on the prowl,
Hiding behind, the cloak that’s divine, you can hear the devil growl,
And the girls are facing blood-type law dictating how they’ll act.
But the reasons for these makeshift wars, no reason can be exact.
The merciful men succumb to the then, the past, the was and before,
No insight is made to the __ures we made lay scattered on the floor,
And the love we feel is like a spinning wheel preparing to be turned,
But the reasons for these makeshift wars, you know i never did learn.
Kings and queens declare love has been, and the new age is ushered in shame,
No secrets declared but i heard these words, yes i heard them spoke in the rain,
Love is the law, oh love is the law, but the bells they did not ring,
And the reasons for these makeshift wars, no reason means anything.
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