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...And in poor seconds, the filthy figures surrounding become obstacles.... |
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Smell of acid thoughts. |
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Intoxicated eyes, |
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Madly, Are you searching for the obscure calm, |
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But the partial blindness doesn't relieve, |
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And viscid words are shoves to the fury |
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My hostile guide. |
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Memories contribute to mental fall, |
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Skin refuses to feel. |
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Hide my mind |
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From the unconscious desire |
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Of wound, deep wound. |
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I drag between a liquid grey and the hole. |
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Intoxicated eyes, |
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Madly, Are you searching for the obscure calm, |
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But the partial blindness doesn't relieve, |
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And viscid words are shoves to the fury |
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My hostile guide. |
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No way, By now, there's no way, |
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And I spit on these ruins. |
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What silliness.... |
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Quiet |