Blood
Crywank
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The blood, it will not dry
Oh the blood it will not dry
So instead we are trained to just roll our eyes
This is not a call for guilt
This is just a request for respect
The blood may not be on our hands
But we sleep in their beds
Oh, we sleep in their beds
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We are told not to live in the past
But some things must not be forgotten
We can outlast, but what’s done is cast
And privileges are ill-gotten