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On the outskirts of my mind |
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there's really nothing left |
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eternal is gone, I lost myself |
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again and again and again |
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Violet dreams of a violent kind |
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kaleidoscope mind of hate |
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The battle with everyone |
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was really just the other me within |
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On the outskirts of my mind |
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there's really nothing left |
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Hell is lose and it's only just begun |
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I hold the truth, I am the cure, |
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I hold you down, I beg you now |
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Try not to look me in the eye, as I'm headed for the kill |
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I know I have to do it, |
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even if I'm lost, I'm lost, I'm lost |
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On the outskirts of my mind |
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there's really nothing left |
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Violet dreams of violent kind |
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they hunt me now you're gone |
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And I seem to remember |
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the day that I lost you |
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And it seems like |
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I never had you anyway... |
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This ceremony of opposites in my relation to both shadows at play in complete and |
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utter darkness, and the inexplicable absence of light on the brightest of days. The |
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reality presented to me by shadows, appear no different that the one displayed by |
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light. I am the difference, I am the anomaly, I am the abyss, and the void. It is the |
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false truth, and the truth is always false. |
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On the outskirts of my mind |
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there's really nothing left |
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Hell is loose, hell is loose... |
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Can't seem to find the outskirts |
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Can't seem to remember the violet |
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Can't seem to remember the day that I lost you |
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Can't seem to tell a dream from a lie |
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Can't seem to tell you why I'm here. |
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Can't seem to |
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Can't seem to |
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Can't seem to. |