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(Seven... Sixty-two...) |
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"Escaping reality as we shatter down in pieces... |
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Oh and the way we struggle for the throne must come to an end, |
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As those who are under its... spell!" |
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This heritage of life itself, it will not come for free. |
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And all this time we wonder how, just how can we make them the same. |
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The same old tale just passed us by, this tale "that is not real." |
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In form of slugs, it truly speaks, and this is how I feel... |
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Like 7.62! |
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I'm loading myself... with 7.62! |
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Please try to hide your real intentions and all those wasted ideas. |
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The dead shall march, now on and on this portrait of our dreams. |
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The same old man just passed us by, they say "this cannot be real." |
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In form of slugs, they truly speak, and this is how they feel... |
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Like 7.62! |
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I'm loading myself... with 7.62! |
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Oh how I feel, remains of a mankind so scarred and their losing ideas... |