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Название
Альбом
Текст песни
You fed them your lies and you stole all their earnings away.
You made a market for those that want to be saved.
What you're doing isn't something new. Religion is an ancient form of revenue.
Your pockets fill as you betray their trust. Your gaudy cross encased in rust.
The needy starve while you take your fill. Eyes to the sky with your hand in the till.
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