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Recorded in 1982 by The Church. (04:14 min)
See the chains which bind the menCan you taste their lonely arroganceIt's always too lateAnd your face is so coldThey struggled for this opulenceSee the suns which blind the menBurnt away so long before our timeNow their warmth is forgotten and gonePretty maids not far behindWho you trying to get in touch withI'm almost with youI can sense it wait for meI'm almost with youIs this the taste of victoryI'm almost with youSee the dust which fills your sleepDoes it always feel this chill near the endI never dreamed we'd meet here once moreThis laugh reserved for a friend
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