| Martin, I’ve seen, the ones you oughta bleed
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| They’ve been driving around, in their big stylish cars
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| Well, I think they oughta feel your pain, yeah
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| I think they oughta wear your scars
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| 'Cus what Ruby told you, well that was true
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| Now you better lace up those boots
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| Only you knew how it felt when the pretty girls looked at you that way
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| And somebody is gonna hafta pay
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| He’s gonna get his revenge
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| (Revenge!)
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| He’s gonna crucify himself for the world’s sins
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| His name was Atchet
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| He was one of them (x2)
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| He’s coming through the swing door
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| He don’t give a fuck no more
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| Cause no one ever gave a fuck about him
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| A horrible little monster born into a life of pain
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| The only way to relieve the hate;
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| Justice in the upper tiers of the corporate class tonight
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| A little lesson on twisted wrongs, and crooked rights
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| If he could write the headline in the paper the very next day it would read
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| «Violence works in mysterious ways»
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| And somebody’s gonna hafta pay
|
| Somebody’s gonna have to pay
|
| He’s gonna get his revenge
|
| (Revenge!)
|
| He’s gonna crucify himself for the world’s sweet sweet sins
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| His name was Atchet
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| He was one of them
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| He was a skin
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| «Are you a messenger boy?»
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| «No, I’m the judge and jury
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| If you’re gonna call the cops
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| You better fucking hurry!
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| There’s no use begging for your life
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| You made your choice and now you pay the price
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| You fucking bastards!
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| Bastards!
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| Bastard!» |