| http://www.w3.org/ns/prov#value | - om the tongues hot with bloodAnd drained their pins of bitter ink Vainly reaching for the bottle full of empty edensBranded especially for the ones who had come with great expectationsTo the perfumed halls of Allah, for their time in the sunAnd we were stokin' the fires and oilin' up the machineryUntil JESUS FOUND OUT WE HAD IDEAS OF OUR OWNWAR WAS COMING AND THE EARTH WAS SHAKINGAnd there was no
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