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The Spanish Drummer - Rome
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The Spanish Drummer Rome

The Spanish Drummer - Rome
Give me silence! Give me some truce!
Let us be evasive! Nevermind the truth!
They say slaves speak of bravery
As swine speak of flying
Surely now we're done speaking
We're done lying

Our flowers are blue
Our eyes still wounded by sleep
Death, the spanish drummer
Has had us moan, has had us weep

Our flowers are blue
Our eyes still wounded by sleep
Death, the spanish drummer
Has had us moan, has had us weep

Our hearts still free
Our word still alive
Even though the world
Has us run and hide
They say rebels speak of loyalty
As fish speak of flying
Surely, we know better
For now we're here to do the dying
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