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But these days we dont know how to march Satisfied with a knife in your spine youre bloodless So tell me again what am I feeling you know me so well So what am I feeling and how can you tell Ive got a feeling you dont know We think that were the ones were the bright unconquered suns Wait a while well watch the light grow stale And we smell so very clean but were the Oil in this machine and this machine This machine is going wrong . . . .
