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There’s a question I want to ask. It’s a small question, and it’s certainly not important. It’s petty, irrelevant.
To be scared is to be alive. It is the thing that stops us, Prevents us from harming ourselves. It’s why we don’t jump out of windows, Why we don’t stab our eyes, Why we leave spiders alone.
Tears make my eyes blurry The world is at war so I worry Carnage turns the street to a cemetery Everyday the news bears a sad story
Democracy? An illusion Freedom? A delusion How are we supposed to feel  with Isis's intrusion? We're stuck in bad habit while they're organizing their cabinet.
You see… I’m just a lonesome soul on a dark path I’ve had my toll I’ve felt the wrath Barely ever seen light on hells path
I turn on the news and all I see is ISIS this murder that immigration this
The men are being slaughtered  The women being tortured Oh God, My God, where are you? To save them from this fate?  The 'N' marks the houses Of those who praise your name.
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