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Cuomoville
There's magic on a Summer eveningThe frogs are croaking in the pondWe're turning toward salvationAcross the RubiconAll the day we work with our handsDigging in the Tuscan soilPlanting peas and cabbageNourished by the toilHere in CuomovilleWe don't need chains of gold, whoa hoLeave it for the Roman soldiersIn their winged chariotsIt's like a surrogate for heavenAs the wicked world turns roundWe bring each other comfortNever let each other downIf this is all we are givenI'm sure that I'll be satisfiedTo know that you are with meOn the day I dieFeed 'em, 'feed emTo the lionsFeed 'em, feed 'emTo the lionsTaste your ownMedicineFeed 'em, feed 'emTo the lionsWave your handsAs they are dyingTaste your ownMedicineHere in CuomovilleWe don't chains of gold, whoa hoLeave it for the Roman soldiersAll hail the Roman soldiersIn their winged chariots
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