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Ten Thousand marching people headed down windswept highways
the sun hangs high, no mercy for the masses without water
sand-scorched eyes of souls still held by fear, marching further
no more to lose is why they are looking for a new future
13 days of suicide
many more will take the ride
I cross my heart and hope to die
the devil is on his way
fading faster than a photograph or a picture
ten thousand images not seeing clear, marching further
I hope to god that someone wrote this down for the future
because when you (only) think of it, it disappears, and that's forever
the devil is on his way
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