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That Crown Don't Make You a Prince

de Murder By Death

All the drunks in the alleys are takin'
up arms to undo their whole lives in a day
if their hearts they don't change before long
in the heart of the beast they will lay he
tears the wood from the walls to get to us
he steals the good from this town so wash the
black from your fingertips and fight raise up
from the cellars fill the streets with his dead this time.

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