LYRIC
Onward rode the van
Swept in by discolored waste
Sickness crept on the hall
And the death of me
Almost as we burn and play [Chorus] Ants just don't belong
In this place you call your own [Verse 2] Searching for a favorite flower
Narrow with the hall
Swept in by discolored waste
Almost as we burn and play [Chorus] Ants just don't belong
In this place you call your own [Outro] Danger's taller trees
Don't look so good to me
They won't grow again
Led to final peace
And this diluted stream
They don't break for them
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