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Now the soldiers lay in their graves.
On their tombstones, a thousand staves:
“Turn from here”, “Don’t draw near!”
“GO away from this place!”
Turn back!
Seven schoolgirls
In pigtails
Walk on and on into
The burning fires of the master’s lair.
Gold jewelry
Drips truly
From the neck and wrists of sin
As the putrid stench of phero fills the air.
And if I could revoke this crime, I would
To bring it back on your side of the line.
And if I could stop it from behind, I would.
For the golden cause of man.
Grip to your truth like the air you breathe!
On their tombstones, a thousand staves:
“Turn from here”, “Don’t draw near!”
“GO away from this place!”
Turn back!
Seven schoolgirls
In pigtails
Walk on and on into
The burning fires of the master’s lair.
Gold jewelry
Drips truly
From the neck and wrists of sin
As the putrid stench of phero fills the air.
And if I could revoke this crime, I would
To bring it back on your side of the line.
And if I could stop it from behind, I would.
For the golden cause of man.
Grip to your truth like the air you breathe!
Lyrics submitted by rentalgirl
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