| Slash, slash
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| Slash, slash
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| I was in Amsterdam with my ex-girlfriend
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| She was passed out, it was mad late
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| I was mad lost, she was naked
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| I was staring at her tattoos and I couldn’t take it (because)
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| Something dark taken its toll
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| I’d been rolling with the devil I’d been selling my soul
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| Like a rock cliche I felt so alone
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| I cried myself to sleep and dreamt I was home
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| Not about to go get tangled on a biddy I’ve finagled
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| Many hearts and ladies it’s been clear
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| Since hip-hop brought me here
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| I felt like Francis Bacon, hope that I’m not mistaken
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| Mouth open with the eyes scratched out
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| That’s how I felt when she told me God was dead
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| God’s not dead, he’s been hiding
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| God’s not dead, he’s been hiding
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| God’s not dead, he’s been hiding
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| God’s not dead, he’s been hiding
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| At the Amsterdam airport we said goodbye
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| All this time I’d been seeing we’d been living a lie
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| And I never felt freer than I had in my life
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| When I left her that day we flew home on different flights
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| I stopped in Spain for a week
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| I found myself in Gaudi’s architecture — Barcelona was a treat
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| Francis Bacon at El Museo del Prado
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| Up in Madrid, felt like I won the lotto
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| The post-war painter spoke to me
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| With a pain in his brush strokes vocally
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| And a crisis in faith that he showed to me
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| Not a joke to me, well hopefully
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| Because I’d been living with a Buddhist nihilist
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| Suicide Girl artist love tatted on her lip
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| And on her on hips I had everything, hip-hop had brought me
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| I thought back to that day in February when she lost me
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| I said «God loves you,» she shook her head
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| That’s when it all became clear
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| (SLASH SLASH) Imma get that canvas
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| (SLASH SLASH) Better understand this
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| (SLASH SLASH) Like Francis Bacon
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| (SLASH SLASH) This is all I’m saying
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| (SLASH SLASH) Take your dark-ass world
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| (SLASH SLASH) Move back home girl
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| (SLASH SLASH) ‘Cause I don’t have time
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| To watch you try to breed your demons with mine
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| God’s not dead, he’s been hiding
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| God’s not dead, he’s been hiding
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| God’s not dead, he’s been hiding
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| God’s not dead, he’s been hiding
|
| Slash, slash
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| Slash, slash
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| God’s not dead, he’s been hiding
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| Slash, slash
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| Slash, slash
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| God’s dead
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| God’s dead
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| And he’s like …
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| Hold up, I speak in the quiet
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| While you’re sleeping underneath your eyelids
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| I’m alive in the silence, where it seems I’ve been hiding
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| But there’s no denying, that it’s painfully lonely
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| And you’re waiting for a sign like, «Show me!»
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| Though you may not know yet at first glance
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| You can see my thumbprint on your circumstance
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| And I’ll give you everything you need
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| Grace and mercy and the air you breathe
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| The clarity to see, the ears to hear
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| But there’s so much noise that seems to interfere
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| Without pain you’d never know love
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| There’s not a trial you can’t overcome
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| When you feel exhausted ready to give up
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| Remember that I’m here like I always was |