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Sonntag

Point.

I've got a gun in my hand but the gun won't cock,
my finger's on the trigger but that trigger seems locked,
and I can't stop staring at the tick-tock clock
and even if I could I would never give up,
with a vest on my chest, a bullet in my lung
I can't believe I'm dying with my song unsung
and if and when I die won't you bury me alone?
Because I'll never get to heaven if I'm singing this song.

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