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Sometimes |
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I scream late at night in my head |
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In vain to release the frustrations |
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And I find no solace in the knowledge and lore |
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That is at the heart of my coping with life |
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And though |
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I try to be not a sinner |
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I am yet a slave to temptation |
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Sometimes |
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I cry when |
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I look at the world |
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And watch it rushing hastily by |
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Without but a glance at my wretched self |
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Unconcerned with anguish and pain |
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A speck in the void, a fleeting cloud on the wind |
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I can't preserve even a second of love |
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But is it too late, |
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Lord, help me not to hate |
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And to show the world that true sincerity lives |