| To create, pass on, pass on
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| What’s mine, now yours, pass on
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| Written in stone, no longer in sand, pass on
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| Pass on, to create
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| To grace, what’s mine, now yours, I’m gone, pass on
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| To create, create, pass on, pass on
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| What’s mine, now yours, I’m gone, pass on, create, create
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| In stone
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| Not sand, pass on, I’m gone, to grace
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| Pass on, in stone, pass on
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| All mine for yours, pass on
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| To give all, give all, pass on
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| Next mine, now gone, pass on
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| To grace, pass on
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| To grace, pass on
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| Give all, give all, give all, give all to
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| To my children
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| Ain’t got no mother
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| Came from my temple, all, when I thought them
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| And my children
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| I never loved them
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| Why feel that way when their existence is my business?
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| And my children
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| They never listen
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| Vaped in the brain, feral vessals of my self-interest
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| My children
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| They are the future
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| Good luck with the mess I left, you innovators
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| My children
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| Pay dividends
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| Vomit and rage spewing forth in the drive-thru
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| So don’t lean on me, man 'cause I ain’t got nothing to give
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| A-don't lean on me, man 'cause I ain’t got nothing to give
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| A-don't lean on me, man 'cause I ain’t got nothing to give
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| A-don't lean on me, man 'cause I ain’t got nothing to give
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| To my children
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| Oh, my children — they’re right behind you
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| Oh, my children — they’re gonna beat you
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| Oh, my children — if you let them
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| Oh, oh, my children |