When I was a young boy,
My father took me into the city,
To see a marching band.
He said: Son when you grow
Will you be the saviour of the broken,
The beaten and the damned?
And will you defeat them
Your demons and all the non-believers
The plans that they have made.
Because one day I'll leave you a phantom
To lead you in the summer,
To join the Black Parade.
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